Gashora Girls Academy // Aline

Aline taught me the ropes of the Gashora Girls Academy and what her day-to-day life looks like (see previous post). She's a sweet, sharp, and ambitious 16-year old girl.

We bounced questions back and forth, to which she told me:

1. She lives in one of the dorms with other girls in her grade and gets to see her family on the visiting days each month. Family can come more often, but the girls are very independent.

2. Girls are close friends with those within their grade and in other grades as well. In their cafeteria, they are mixed up by age every week and eventually get to sit with every girl in the entire school.

3. You can only have long hair once you are a year seven (senior) and about to enter the working world. All of the younger girls have their natural hair in a short cut.

4. They have seven classes every day: six classes are 60-minutes, and the seventh is 40-minutes. Each girl picks a focus/major, which their seventh class is dedicated to extra time studying that topic. Aline's is chemistry.

5. She loves volleyball, and participates in sports every single day like the other girls. After school, a variety of sports classes/practices are offered, including volleyball, soccer, basketball, and traditional dance.

6. She loves to use Google and often researches what's going on in current events around the world.

7. Over their breaks, girls often attend programs and institutes around the continent. Aline had just returned from a program with people from 16 different countries in Africa, which she described as "the best week of [her] life." School breaks for these girls are often spent taking on educational programs or supporting their families.

8. Her dream school is Stanford, but she is worried about the difficulties of adjusting to a large school as a foreign African woman.

My favorite part was hearing the types of questions that she wanted to asked me. Some were along the lines of:

1. How do people in America perceive Rwanda?

2. What do you think of the people running in your presidential election?

3. What do you do for fun?

4. Why did you choose to come to Rwanda?

5. What are some good, smaller colleges in the states?

6. Why can't people in America dance? (lol)

7. What do you think of here?

That first question was the toughest for me because the narrative that many Americans know about Rwanda is the genocide. And maybe gorillas. And sometimes how beautiful the scenery is. Honestly, until I met Soozi, my education about the country did not go far beyond that either before I came here. I tried to avoid saying that first answer, but she saw past it quickly. She asked me if people still judge and think of Rwanda through the genocide, and I could tell the thought of that frustrated her deeply.

The genocide is a painful topic for many to bring up, as every single Rwandan was affected, whether a family member of theirs died, they saw someone be killed or injured, or that they grow up by parents / a society that is continuing to cope with it all. It is undeniably a part of their history, a heartbreaking and tragic piece, but it does not define a country. What really defines Rwandans is how they have recovered and grown since 1994. Instead of seeing the resilience, intellect, and order that so many Rwandans take pride in, from the outside we look back at the inhumanity, sadness, and disorder. It is a part of their history that has lasting effects in how people connect and live in their communities, but nobody and no country should be defined only by their darkest moments. How would you feel if your reputation was based on your biggest mistakes and darkest moments? Can't you say that there is more merit to how you react after you fall, rather than the fall itself?

As we sat on the bench by the flag pole together, she asked me how you get people to learn what Rwanda really is now. Why do people not know what the country is really like? Why do people look at the continent as a country, when it has so many different cultures in it? How do you get people to understand and want to understand?

We talked about the role of the media, namely movies, documentaries, and the news. We picked each other's brains about the role of travelers and locals to educate others. We tried to define the roots of where misconceptions come from and why there is apathy to understand.

Personally, physically coming here helped me see so much of the beauty here. In the people who have time after time smiled at me when crossing paths or personally walked me to where I was trying to go. In the way I feel more safe walking around here than my own home in Seattle. In the emergence of arts and artistic expression. In lush green landscapes and wildlife that are highly valued by the people. In the shockingly clean streets and communal respect for public spaces. In the recognition of a tough history through memorials and museums, a constant reminder of a past to never be repeated. In workers that are patient with my attempt at remembering french and my lack of Kinyarwanda (the official language). In locals that invite you to their home for a meal or offer assistance.

From Aline's question came the realization of the dangers of ignorance -- that "ignorance is bliss" is like a form of discrimination. Her questions go far beyond anything that I can rightfully analyze in a blog post, but it at least gave some food for thought that translates into how we judge Rwanda, other African countries, and really anything that we don't take the time to understand.

Meeting Aline and other Rwandans has helped me understand their country through their eyes. Aline asked if she could take a picture with my phone and, embracing Lenice's message about "photo voice," I asked her to take pictures of all of her favorite parts of her home while we walked around on our tour. This is what came to be (via the lovely iPhone 6):