Please read this from my cousin who is serving in the Peace Corps in Rwanda: Muraho my people, What's good in your hoods? My roommates and colleagues Jack and Frodouard, the school manager and headmaster respectively, told me they were going to get some new classrooms made before the new school year started. This was maybe 6 months ago when they were doing some rough grading (countryfolk with hoes and shovels) at the site below the office, and I figured they were being optimistic. Lo and behold, these classrooms are almost all the way built. Once they get the roofs up here, they'll do the finish work like windows, plastering the inside walls, and fixing up the lighting. If you get a look at the classrooms in the original building, it makes you feel sorry for the kids that have to try to learn in them, and makes you wonder what the hell the builders were thinking. The classroom walls' plaster is coming off, many of the windows are broken, and those windows that are there don't provide near adequate ventilation. Teaching in that class on a warm day (1/3 to ½ of the time) makes me feel like I gotta be Richard Simmons to get anything done. Imagine walking into a class with 45 kids and a third of them are asleep before you even come in. In the middle of the day. And you teach chemistry (which isn't exactly mind-blowing for everyone). With all my other classes, getting them into my lesson, taking notes, making eye contact, and participating in the discussion, is so easy. I don't even try. But it's not these kids' fault, and that's what really pisses me off. Some of my brightest kids are in that class. There are future doctors and scientists in there, and their immediate environment is hindering them from continuing towards their goals. There's no ventilation. There is one window on the doorway wall, and the other side only has gaps in the bricks above 8 or 9 ft. or so. I made it a point to teach the definition of the word "stagnant" during the first term. I come out of a great lesson from another class and go in there and say, "Is it hot in here?" I get a resounding "Yes." I get reminded of the TV show I watched (The Wire, holla) where they purposefully heated up the classrooms so the kids would be more docile. Anyways, here's where you all are gonna come in: I need money for a remodel project. I want to put 24 windows in and redo the plaster and paint on the inside of 10 classrooms. Here's how the cost breaks down: Windows: 24 * 55,000 RWF = 1,320,000 RWF Cement: 20 bags * 11,500 RWF = 230,000 RWF Cement mix soil: 3 trucks * 80,000 RWF = 240,000 RWF Caulk: 36 kg * 1500 RWF = 57,000 RWF Labor: TBD man-days * 1000 RWF = 350,000 to 500,000 RWF Paint: 18 cans * 16,500 RWF = 297,000 RWF Total: about 2,600,000 RWF, or a little less than $4,500 US There are a few things that are pretty obvious and maybe some that aren't: 1.) You're gonna have to trust me (or my mom) with your money. I love this school, I love these students, and there's no way I'd ever steal from them. 'Nuff said. I know your money is hard-earned, and it will all be going towards a great cause. 2.) Expect me to have receipts for *every single expense* made. Assuring you this is just to make you feel more comfortable that the people that I work with will also be responsible with your money. And, honestly, I want the receipts because it will make me more comfortable with whoever's helping here, too. 3.) If there is any money left over, it will go towards my next philanthropic project: I'm going to buy a couple cows to get me started on a decent bride price. J/K If there is money left over, I'll be sure to use it all for other stuff to do at the school, and I'll keep you all posted as to what I end up doing with it. Flat screens in every classroom or something, maybe a Starbuck's. 4.) Why isn't there money in the school's control to do this project with? In short, there just isn't. I can get into the costs of tuition for every student and all that if you'd like personal attention to detail like that (just email me your questions). I'm Jack's (the manager's) unofficial secretary, and I've written a lot of statements and seen a lot of receipts. The money isn't getting mismanaged, believe me. We're not talking about DR Congo's (former) Mobutu trying to buy another cheetah skin hat or whatever. It's a tight ship. 5.) The minimum donation is $100. Just kidding, give me whatever you can. But think about how much money you'd want to help us out with, and let's get 'er done. Little by little, we can do this. As my people say, Turi kumwe – we are together. Much love from the Great Rift Valley, AJ