I spent my second Umuganda (monthly morning of community service) weeding the sides of a dirt road. At first, all of the workers were veterans of various ages, wearing green uniforms, wielding hoes to wack away at the weeds. They were incredibly strong, accomplishing in one whack of a hoe what took me at least ten whacks. A security guard loaned me a hoe, which I shared with one of the veterans who offered to relieve me after seeing how slow and ineffective I was. Later, we were joined by men and women of the community. It was truly back-breaking labor. I traded off sharing a hoe (isuka in Kinyarwanda) with another woman, who also worked faster than me.
Rwandan women spend a lot of time toiling on family farm plots, weeding with hoes. They bend straight over at the waist (no bent knees) for incredibly long periods of time, whacking away with the hoe to clear the plot of weeds. Working in that position, however, was uncomfortable on my back so I was glad to take many breaks. Fortunately, it rains a lot here so the ground was not as hard as it would have been without rain.
Several men asked me, “Vous etes fatigué?”, as it is still commonly assumed here that, if one is a foreigner, one must speak French. That is a holdover from the colonial period, when Rwanda was under Belgian control, and many Belgians and French lived in Rwanda. Strangers often greet me with, “Bonjour, Madame!” In such instances, I attempt to recall my rudimentary knowledge of high school French to politely respond.
My Umuganda was only one of many in Nyanza and one of at least hundreds if not thousands throughout Rwanda on this Saturday morning. It felt good to be part of the national community effort, but my back was glad when the leader said that we’d done enough for the day.
Below is a photo of our meeting at the end of Saturday’s Umuganda. On the right side of the road, you can see part of the results of our weeding labors. In the distance, you can see some of the ubiquitous hills of Rwanda, also known as the Land of a Thousand Hills.
Ruminations from Rwanda 
Don’t see the picture. Can’t believe the back breaking work. I feel so sore just from packing, and moving boxes. Can’t believe your efforts. Almost 2 months behind you. Spring is slow in coming!😘
Shelly
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I hope your back feels better. I like the spirit of the community service. Too bad we don’t do that here in the USA.
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Hey, it is so great to hear you are enjoying hoeing in good company.
Regards from Old Bisbee. G-
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Pat – Happy Easter and happy community service. You are such a good reporter! Though the work sounds dreadful, back-breaking. You must feel so good being part of something that matters. Keep up your blog, because I do think you have something going here that is worthy of memoir. Think of all the good memoirs you have enjoyed, link this experience to some other theme (sort of Shakespearean to have two threads working at once), and I think you’ve got something.
My Easter Sunday was classic — I walked to Mass, stood in the back to a packed crowd, heard about all the confessions this week from fallen away people such as myself, and from the altar requests for renewal and return. The music was great, the babies were adorable, and the need for something like this continues — just not this.
I came home, changed clothes, did a hot yoga class that rung me dry, then changed clothes again to try to finish mulching. it’s chillly enough for this kind of work — trying to beat the heat and the weeds. Hoping to read and relax today. I hope you continue to have a good day!
Keep the posts coming!!!
Gerri
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Pat, Happy Easter, plus 2 days. I’m fascinated by the description of Umuganda. Thanks for the 2 blogs on it. They were very informative. Jeanie
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What does hoeing have to do with law?
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Gee, Pat, I think you will have a publishable book by the time you leave Rwanda. This is all very interesting.
Last week you had me researching why here in the west we start the day in the middle of the night. Something to do with the Romans deciding midnight comes halfway between sunrise and sunset. Or something like that? Well, maybe in Rome.
This morning you had me trying to pull weeds in the back yard while bending at the waist, not the knees. Yikes! I admire you for having a go at it.
Take care,
Marianne
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This is a great story Scullyster, especially about the dairy and milk. The mountain soil looks very fertile. Do they refrain from eating the meat?
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