last days

A few things, sans pictures from the last several weeks: 8 hour bus ride to kampala, Uganda, rafting the Nile, sushi in Africa (not shabby), Ugandan confusion between Celine Dion and Sarah Jessica Parker, tourism consulting for a local coffee company, beach bocce ball at Lake Kivu, the Brogdon departure, the genocide memorial, "rock" concert in Gisenyi and the nearing end of my long African vacation.

So, as I'm about to leave Rwanda to head back to the other Mile High City, I feel an unspoken blog pressure to do a final chapter of sorts or "moral of the story" or lessons learned or something profound - perhaps it could parallel my first blog to give some rounded closure...but the reality is I don't like that kind of neat closure and I don't really even believe in it, not to mention it sounds difficult. Instead I'll just throw out a few things I'm thinking about as I leave:

poverty - what is poverty? what is the difference between material poverty, intellectual poverty, emotional poverty, spiritual poverty? What can I do to alleviate poverty - and what kind of poverty do I care about?

colonialism vs development - how is development today different than the atrocious colonialism of yesteryear and why do we, as the Western World, think we have it all figured out now? What kind of involvement is appropriate or beneficial or both? What role to NGO's, MFI's, sustainable business development enterprises, relief organizations, mission organizations and influential individuals play? What role do economic and military politics play?

awareness - wherever we are, we choose whether or not to engage with the need around us. I can be just as blind to despair and poverty in Africa as I can in Denver. Of what am I really aware and how do I engage with significance?

tacos - I really love tacos and I am really looking forward to eating some soon, preferably with a margarita...and BBQ, I miss BBQ, but I don't want it with my tacos, maybe the meal after tacos. Chimichangas, I like chimichangas better than tacos.

thrice ridiculous

Since its been a few weeks since my last post, I'm lumping together what could have been three separate posts. If you need to pace yourself, feel free to read one at a time, I'll even include subtitles for you:

ridiculous episode 1: bicycle taxi and a lava rock road
About a week ago, I ventured up to Shyira hospital to learn about hydroelectric power options. Shyira is a mountain top hospital in the bush run by the brilliant Caleb King, who happens to be both a doctor and engineer. In addition to saving the lives of many through medical practice, he is also working to develop several stations for capturing (or producing?) hydroelectric power. Disclaimer for the engineers in my family: I did not pay enough attention to fully recount the details so pictures will have to suffice - I'll show them to you later. No one else cares. Here's just one of me explaining this very complicated water diversion tactic to Caleb Jr...actually, I think he's smarter than me. Anyway, the scenery was beautiful, the concept was fascinating and it was an all around great day. Now, Shyira is at least an hour from any semblance of a paved road and since it is in the Virunga (Volcano) region, the primary road construction plan is really just strategically placed igneous rock and dirt. The most accurate way to describe the road is probably an inverted creek bed. We were able to hitch a ride up to Shyira from nearby Ruhengeri in the back of a pickup, which made for a great view and lovely open air ride up. The hope was then to catch a couple moto taxis back into town, but apparently that was an ignorantly optimistic thought. Of course there are no motos in Shyira, but there are bicycle taxis (picture a bike with a padded seat over the back wheel). So, for about a dollar I had the great pleasure of being pedaled across lava rock for an hour. Yeehaw. Judging from the looks, laughs, points and stares we received riding through the few villages, I'm guessing there aren't many parades of mizungus (white folk) on bike taxis. It was also one of the few times that not a soul asked for money (interpretation: "look at the broke-ass white people on bicycles"). I have to say, it was actually pretty entertaining - I-pod up and enjoy the scenery!Here's a good shot of the road and a fellow cyclist.


ridiculous episode #2: me in full charge of small children
Last Friday I was a 2nd/3rd grade substitute at Kigali International Community School. My friend Lauren, the actual teacher for this class, is the epitome of the perfect primary school teacher, a verifiable Anne Owen Shami type, which makes my attempt all the more pathetic by comparison. In Disney terms, I'm probably more Cruella DeVil than Mary Poppins. I don't even know how old 2nd graders are supposed to be, much less how to teach or supervise them. Apparently not old enough to appreciate my cynicism or sarcasm, but old enough to know cursive, which I have successfully forgotten. Seriously, who came up with the cursive "Z"?

Sorry to disappoint, but there are no pics of my teacher-for-a-day experience. There is no need to document the corruption of young minds.


ridiculous episode #3: am regular Dian Fossey, tracking wild mountain gorillas up the steep slope of Karisimbi I finally broke down and participated in one of Rwanda's tourism gems: the gorilla trek. It costs a pretty penny, but is an experience that certainly borders on unbelievable. We hiked a few hours through farmland and forest up into the mountain jungle behind our gorilla trackers and then were able to spend an hour with the Susa group, which is one of the largest "families" of gorillas in these mountains, or the world, or something. For more information on mountain gorillas, please rent Gorillas in the Mist.

(a picture of the mist for you)

(and one of my favorite gorilla trackers, whom I greeted in kinyarwanda thus unintentionally encouraging him to chatter away to me throughout the day, despite the fact that I only understand approximately 6 words).












It was amazing to sit and watch them interact and to be within just a few feet of wild animals that could quite easily rip my arm off, is definitely going on my ridiculous list. Don't worry mom, I'm still alive.

a goat

I don’t know why this man had a goat on his bicycle, but it makes a good picture for my next statement. I am going to buy a goat. Not in Rwanda, but when I get back to Denver...unless I decide to try to get a goat through customs. According to Russell Rainey, renowned outdoorsman and founder of Christ in the Tetons, goats are the new llama. Yes, that’s right: they can pack up to 40 pounds and can eat along the trail, so they make excellent backpacking companions. Since I’m unemployed, I hope to get some good pack trips in this summer and having a goat means I don’t have to carry as much. I wonder how fast they hike – as quick as a bunny, perhaps?

The prospect of goat ownership in Denver proper has previously been researched by Nathan Michels, so I defer any question of legality or logistics to him. All goat name suggestions can be directed to me at mollie.richardson@gmail.com and yes, “Billy” is far too prosaic.

the jungle and the congo

I recently took a road trip that landed me in the dense Nyungwe jungle, which is presumably what all of Rwanda looked like prior to cultivation (nearly every inch is now farmland). The jungle had an almost eerie feeling; even as you drive through it feels quiet, dark and isolated. I’m pretty sure I would believe anything about its potential inhabitants and would not have been surprised by wild mythical creatures if they had crossed the road in front of us. I’m even a little creeped out by the monkey man on the entrance sign – what is that? It also adds to the intrigue that all of the park rangers carry AK-47s and that we were just a stone’s throw from the Congo.

Jungle flower that I fear could eat me, jungle monkey that is hopefully harmless, and just-outside-the-jungle accommodations that were actually quite lovely...












Speaking of the Congo, we thought it would be fun to cross the border, despite the travel warning and unrest that currently characterize the country. I’m a sucker for cool passport stamps. I’ll say very little about this venture other than there may or may not have been a skirmish and nearly some actual trouble with the Congolese border mafia. The alleged incident may have been a photography issue that I am choosing to blame entirely on the Indiana Jones characters you see below. Seriously, guys?


This foot bridge is the official border cross from Cyangugu.


And here we are immigrating or emigrating (?) back into Rwanda.

tea and coffee

I have been a coffee lover/addict for many years now and thanks to Anna Kendrick I also have a mild appreciation for that other common hot beverage. Last week I had the pleasure of field tripping to see the root of both - "crop to cup," if you will. The tea fields, which are primarily in the Western province are absolutely beautiful and the processing plant we toured was quite an experience. We thought about buying a 62 kilo bag on the spot, but it would've had to ride on the roof rack and we thought we might lose it on the bumpy, 3 hour, dirt road trek. Wise decision I think.



The coffee tree/plant is not as breathtaking as the tea fields, but the washing station for the coffee beans might be in my top five favorite tours ever. They simply use gravity and water to separate the different grades of beans, which seems to be primarily a matter of ripeness and density. Of course, it also requires of good bit of man power and hand-sorting during the drying stage. In some ways it was simple and yet I certainly couldn't have thought of it. Either way, I decided it was a good reason to become even more of a coffee snob. I have previously resisted indulging my tendency toward coffee snobbery because I don't want to get to the point where I can't drink gas station coffee on a road trip - always trying to keep my options open. However, being in a country where they grow some of the world's best coffee (yeah, its not just Columbia anymore kids), makes me think I should suck it up and just be elitist. Funny enough, Rwandans don't really drink much coffee, which is one of the obstacles to progress for some of the farmers - hard to know, much less improve, your product if you don't consume it.


If you live in Boston or DC, make sure to visit Bourbon Coffee when they open in the fall - Rwandan owned and operated and they pay farmers double fair trade!

where the wild things are

Apparently, some of the wild things stay in Kenya and Tanzania, but that's no excuse to miss a safari opportunity in Rwanda! Last weekend, I ventured to the Eastern part of the country to a National Park called Akagera with the Brogdons and a few other folks including Russell Rainey, Rebekah Lewis and Lindsay Trotter. We saw giraffes (which might be my new favorite animal), zebras, buffalo, birds, hippos, a warthog, babboons, and cows. Unfortunately, the pacyderms were nowhere to be found, but all in all it was a great day. Our tour guide was slightly sub-par, considering he actually fell asleep during the safari and repeated the only fact he knew to the point of hilarity. It went something like this and always included several dramatic pauses and appropriate hand motions:

"that is a zebra." (long pause and a gesture toward the zebras, as if we hadn't seen the black and white striped creatures only 20 yards away).

"It has a single hoof (another long pause)...like a...horse."

Following this astounding insight he would shape his hand like a hoof and paw into the air, clearly driving the point home.One of the great things about Akagera is that they let you get out of the car, which we did here to stretch our legs and perform a little wild African yoga.


All in all, its a pretty rough life here, suffering in Africa. I mean, look at those dark clouds rolling in as I try to lounge by the pool and some of us obviously need to work on our tan.

For those of you still concerned for my welfare, I'm including a great shot of the Brogdons - the family currently housing, loving and feeding me. Aren't they fabulous?

another day

After three weeks here, the days - sights, people, life, work - feel pretty normal so I guess that means I'm settling in. The great part about the newness wearing thin is that you actually get to see things closer to what they are and it gives me more space to breathe it in. Even though I'm working, it still feels a little like vacation and I'm trying to maintain a sense of just being/abiding and letting the experience do the work. In a lot of ways, it has been restorative for me to be away from my normal life and to visit a slice of the global development world. It is also a great challenge, as it forces me to confront a prevailing reality that has, does and will continue to pull me out of an otherwise comfortable hibernation. I am, however, cheating the game a little by being here for a few months - long enough to feel present but short enough to avoid some of the more difficult issues and transitions.

During some more of my recent field excursions, I was able to get a little deeper into the rural parts of Rwanda, near the Congolese border. We paid a visit to one of Opportunity's poster-child clients, who started with just enough of a loan to buy a single bag of sorghum and is now running a full harvesting and processing operation that employs twenty some-odd people. The picture above is the walk between the stream where the Sorghum is washed/soaked and the area where it is dried. You can see a few boys carrying the large bags of sorghum on their head. The picture below shows a few of the women washing and soaking the sorghum in the stream. The entourage of children is a typical escort for "mizungus" (kinyarwanda for white, aka rich people).

This next shot is out the back window of our land rover as we left one of the villages - you can see how the kids like to chase the car and a few of them even hung on to the spare tire as we made our way back to the main road.




And finally, a roadside stand where we stopped to buy some bananas and pineapples on the way back into Kigali. Kind of reminds me of buying fruit or vegetables on the side of the highway in Arkansas...except not.