On September 15, 2011, Gretchen Wallace, Founder & Director of Global Grassroots, visited Harwood Union High School and spoke to students about what led her to a life of humanitarianism; particular, what led her to work on women's issues in Rwanda.

This video was created by Marley Cohen and Charlotte Thompson.

Thea, Marley and I discuss our experience in Rwanda with the hosts of "Someone Call The Girl Police!" on our local radio station WMRW in Warren, Vermont.

Just click on the attachment and wait a few seconds...

Il de Phonse was our driver for 18 days while in Rwanda, but so much more. It is safe to say the students enjoyed him, appreciating his gentle manner and kind gestures, such as packing all of our 30 suitcases into the van, staying with us all day and night while away from his family, providing us with moments of levity and key Kinyarwandan phrases when in need. 

He is a sweet and selfless man who got really excited during our safari, chasing after wild boars while in search of giraffes! Which we obviously found!

Every Last Saturday of the month, Rwandans get together to work on a project as a community -- it is called Umuganda. On this day, we helped build a red brick house for "vunerable" women and their families in the Butare region of southern Rwanda. We worked alongside many Rwandans, creating mortar with our feet and hoes, casting heavy bricks and hauling them to the construction zone, did some masonry, and thoroughly enjoyed the experience. 

This photo story of the construction of the house -- Umuganda -- was created by Naomi, Olivia and Caitlin. Enjoy...

I was given eyes to give you the gaze.

You were given hands to give me the wave.

I was given the wave to give you a smile.

You were given a smile to give me the hope.

I was given the hope to make the change.

You were given the change to make a difference.

Play has no language barrier. It has no age limit. Play at its best is shared with another. If we are fortunate enough to play with others, time stands still. I would have never thought a ball (umupira) landing at my feet would mean so much. How many umupiras have landed at my feet before? This is how I came to know Olivier. The boy (umuhuungu) was throwing his homemade umupira at the family goat (Ihene) that had just taken a bite out of their corn. I tossed the umupira back to him and we tossed the umupira back and forth as we learned more and more about each other. The umupira somehow disappeared or at least I think it did but the conversation continued. Olivier was so proud of his English (Icyongereza), his vegetables (Imboga), and his family (Miryango). He had eight (Umunani) brothers and sisters.  I asked him about a plant in his garden. He said it was a type of potato (Ibirayi). The teacher (Umwigisha) had become the student (Umunyeshuuri). He told me the name for corn was Ikigori. When it came time to go, I did not want to leave. It was hard saying good bye (Murabeho) to my friend (Inshuti Wanje).

The color of purple spreads through the red dirt and green hills of Rwanda.  A color of forgiveness and peace.  Walking next to the streams of purple,  remembering and striving to understand.  The thoughts that come and go with everything  jumbled in your head.   Sitting on the dust covered benches where 16 years ago trembling children, women and men sat, scared for their life and what they would lose.  One million is a number that I cannot grasp, a number I have never seen, but when Individual belongings and terrifying stories that stop you from breathing stand for such a small percent of that million you start to think.  You start to think of the thousands and thousands of other stories and belongings that stand for those million spirits.  Yet when you walk through those red dusty streets it is civil.  It is peaceful and respectful.  Every face you pass you see forgivness in the creases and scars.  Thinking of the millions of stories you pass just on a walk to the market and the color of purple painted, hung, and worn everywhere. 

One of the most exciting parts of this experience for me is seeing students take ownership over their work.  Beginning with our workshop at the Vermont Folklife Center prior to the trip, Greg and I have been able to teach everyone the basic concepts of ethnographic field research as well as how to use the tools (cameras, audio recorders, video)--but the question always remains: will anyone be compelled to make something born of their own interest, rather than out of expectation and/or requirement from us.?

This video was shot at 11:30PM after an full day of exploring Kigali- the girls have already been working for several hours, and wouldn't actually finish the final version of "Grace"  until after midnight.  Perhaps I'm suffering from an excitement brought on by my closeness to the project, but I can't help feeling that Julia and Marley's sublte expressions during this first full preview of their piece is confirmation that something is going on here in Rwanda.

Photographed, recorded, created, and edited by Thea, Anna, and Olivia

I walk into the house and I’m immediately thwarted with kids.  Matrone is the oldest at 11.  She has this feeling about her that is rather hard to describe.  She’s mature, smart, and curious.  We gave her and her sister Seta, who’s eight, the gifts we had brought.  They accepted them quietly but with much appreciation.