Well, I’m back to my old crowd creating! Good to know I’ve still got the power to bring in an audience after being trumped by a man in orange and a punctured tyre! This morning I took a walk through the fields to the Teacher Training College where I’d run into a student on Tuesday I’d met over a month ago in Butare where Emma and I had some special adventures (which I wrote about but never posted!) whilst Catherine lay in hospital with unexplained stomach pains.
I was being given a guided tour of the dormitories and kitchens at the college when a familiar face greeted me with a big grin. It was Pinard. He asked me if I remember him (which I did, thankfully!) and reminded me of a promise I’d made which was to bring him some English reading material. I’d hoped that at some point I would return to Butaro and honour my promise. As it was, I was able to do it today. My good deed is probably slightly questionable however as the only material I had to give him was a trashy novel that had a glittery front cover (need I say more) and a women’s health magazine! Possibly not the most appropriate of reading material for an 18 year old Rwandan boy, but certainly likely that I’ve upped his popularity stakes J
Pinard found me pretty quickly, I guess I stand out in a crowd! Within a couple of minutes a small assortment of boys had gathered. The questions started pretty abruptly and it didn’t take long for the two deep crowd to establish itself. The nice thing was that it really wasn’t all that overwhelming, probably because there was genuine interest and curiosity. This wasn’t just blank staring, this was a group of student teachers with lots of questions. Sometime they were hard to answer because I didn’t have the information and sometimes it was hard to answer because in the cold light of day I’m privileged, wealthy and have endless opportunities; I couldn’t paint a picture that said anything different. I was asked about whether the English were cultivators, about whether we all paid taxes, it was decided I was rich, I was asked if it was possible for an English person to marry a Rwandan. There were questions about the weather, the seasons, why teachers in England don’t support or sponsor teachers in Rwanda by paying them the equivalent of their local salary (£30 a month!), whether I have a lap top, whether I speak any other languages, why I wont live forever in Rwanda, how many children we’re allowed to have in England, about the education system. I struggled not to feel guilty for my answers, for my luck at being born in the UK. It’s incredible what a big role geography plays in your lot in life. I think the phrase that springs to mind is ‘it’s just not fair’. These boys were eager, bright, full of optimism and with aspirations but how far will this get them in a country that quite simply cannot provide the opportunities England has for me? And then there is the issue of parents. Geography is one half, the other half is the start you’ve been given in the world. Pinard has neither parent. Money is a huge barrier to him achieving his true potential, yet he is hard working, bright, enthusiastic and possibly most important of all, he is a good person. It is quite simply not fair. I have had both a good start in life from my parents and the luck of geography on my side
And whilst the questions made me feel guilty for having so much, the companionship, the sense of humour, the genuine interest and warmth really made my day. I shared my music with them and they passed the headphones round in a way that an English teenager would never day, with generosity and consideration for their peers. And during this whole time, not one girl joined the crowd, not one girl stopped to ask a question, which probably says a lot for the gender divide. The girls lack confidence and it shows.
I left the crowd gathered round the girlie magazine hoping I hadn’t done the very thing that I hate about our society - shown them the bright lights of what they can’t have; bred dissatisfaction by selling an image. Maybe that’s too deep, maybe I just made some teenage boys’ day with half naked pictures of women in bikinis eating Special KJ
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