Karongi: Potters and Ecolodge

I've borrowed these pictures from the interweb as I didn't take any of my own. Our third day in Karongi involved a trip to the Batwa village of Kabuga. The Batwa are the third - depending on how you class the other two - tribe of Rwanda. Unlike Hutu and Tutsi, which are arguably economic labels rather than ethnic, the Batwa are an actual ethnic group, formerly referred to as pygmies. A forest-dwelling group who have remained since the forests have all gone.

They're referred to as the Potters because they largely make their living casting clay into round pots which they fire on open bonfires. Apparently each pot fetches around FRW 300 (30p). The Batwa are considered one of the most deprived and vulnerable groups in Rwanda. They largely live in extreme poverty.

(Found one photo taken by our participants!)

Participants again got quite frustrated by this visit (especially the internationals). They felt we should be doing more to help than simply observing. Previous delegations have worked in cooperation with local NGOs to provide pigs, a pig hut and deliver soap. The problem has been that the pigs (all except two) were sold and the money reportedly spent on beer, as was the soap. Even the pig hut has vanished.

It was a particularly interesting dilemma. Fresh-faced undergrads who have studied the theory of development were somewhat flummoxed in the face of a community who seemed to have thwarted all efforts to improve life at the village. It goes against everything you expect of an aid intervention. Earlier in the program I'd given a talk along David Damberger lines on aid failure, and learning from it. This, to me, made a prime case study.

It reminded me hugely of an Aborigine encampment I once visited in Australia. The Aborigines were nomadic people, as were the Batwa. But the government built them houses (as has the government of Rwanda for the Batwa), and suggested they stay put. Everything at the aboriginal encampment, from the desks in the school to the rubbish bins, was chained to the floor, and the whole place surrounded by chicken wire. The reason given was that the Aborigines had no concept of ownership. If something is there, you pick it up and walk off with it until you don't need it anymore.

With settlement life came soaring alcoholism and teenage pregnancies - as with the Batwa.

Those pesky Aborigines just didn't adhere to the pattern of living that the Australian government expected of them.

Neither have the Batwa.

Honestly, I don't know what the solution is. Once alcoholism takes root, it's very hard to reason or undertake projects. And if aid agency reasoning is out of step with Batwa reasoning, or their entire worldview (for instance, the aboriginal concept of time is fascinating, and non-linear), then perhaps there simply is no way of reconciling.

It was interesting to hear different views. One of the main arguments for putting Batwa in houses is that it is their human right to access all standards of care in Rwanda, and to do so they need an address. The view of some internationals is that it's a human right to go live in the forest if you want to. I was of this opinion, but flummoxed again. Firstly, that they hadn't moved with the forest, but stayed put. Secondly, that they professed to be grateful for the permanent housing, yet seemed to take few other steps towards integration into modern Rwandan life. Not of the forest anymore, but not of standard society either.

Very, very interesting and complex situation. However, my colleagues spent some time talking to the Batwa youth, many of whom were attending a school just down the hill. Rose in particular told me that the youth were very different in their outlook to their parents' generation, and that with education came a different way of looking at the world, and greater integration. Perhaps in a generation or two, even this generation, the Batwa will be indistinguishable as a separate community. Perhaps only the older generation will continue to make pots.

I don't know. Not even sure how to feel about that. 

Anyway. 

The next morning we left Karongi via my friend Christiane's place. She's building an ecolodge over the lake from Bethany called Macheo. Hopefully opening in August, but we had a few participants interested in ecological design so I thought it was worth taking them round so that Christiane could explain what she's doing. It's still a bit of a building site at the moment. She's using bamboo for most of it and there will be luxury tents with big beds and locally sourced home-cooked food.

Beds in the Making

On the journey back to Kigali, we stopped at a place called Chutes Ndaba. A dozen local kids race out of the trees and start telling the story in broken English, expecting payment at the end. It's a bit intimidating as the moment you give a coin to one, they all crowd around shouting for money. Could be a really nice tourist attraction, and I really admire the kids for taking the initiative, but Rwanda Tourism could make more of it.

From what I understand, it's a morality tale. It's the rocks next to the waterfall that are Chutes Ndaba. I think Ndaba was a beekeeper or honey merchant. He saw beehives halfway down the rocks and asked friends to tie a rope around him so that he could climb down and get the honey. Only the rope slipped, and he fell into the waterfall and was washed away. The moral being: Don't be greedy. Don't try to collect every last bit of honey. 

Brave Participant

Stunning View

After that it was back to Kigali. All the internationals and refugee participants went off to homestay for three nights, some with local participants and some with alumni. 

Breakfast taken whilst printing in Kibuye town: amandazi, two chapatis
and African Tea (sweet milk and spice) for FRW 500 (50p)!