my final English class

I finished teaching the class on Wednesday with extremely mixed feeling. They are so grateful. But I’m getting on a plane and off I got back to the US; what’s next for them? Even if they get more English classes, can they get a job? Can they continue studying? Will RLP really follow through on helping them find scholarships? Or will they find out that all the things they dream of are totally impossible? Have I only succeeded in getting their hopes up needlessly?

My speech (practice at countless goodbye ceremoines in Japan has finally come in handy...):

"When I came to Kampala, I had no idea what it would be like. They said “maybe you can start an English class for some refugees.” So I knew I’d be teaching you. But when I tried to picture in my head what my students would be like, I couldn't. Looking at all of you now, even in my wildest dreams I couldn’t have imagined such an amazing group of people. You are all so intelligent, so kind, and so courageous. Not many people realize that just speaking English is itself an act of courage. It’s hard to be in a foreign land, where every time you open your mouth people look down on you and dismiss you. You become invisible. But I see you all, three times a week, having conversations about complex topics, debates, discussing fine points of grammar, all in English. It’s not always perfect, you don’t always know exactly how to say what you want to say. But you keep trying, you struggle through, and in the end you get your point across. Communication happens. It is no small thing that you make this effort, that you are willing to become children again, to have your thoughts reduced in subtlety and nuance by a clumsy foreign tongue. But thanks to your courage we’ve been able to discuss politics, war, relationships, family, love, the most important things in our lives. Thank you so much for being willing to share your thoughts, your opinions and your hearts with me. I have learned so much from you. They say teachers always get more out of teaching than their students. If I’ve managed to give you back one tenth – one one-hundredth – of what you’ve given me, I’ll be happy."

I also want to share two poems written by John, one of the students in my English class. He performed the second poem at our farewell party. It was fabulous: he stalked up and down the floor, delivering the lines like a poetry slammer extraorinarie. I was often frustrated at RLP: lack of substantive work, terrible facilities, power trips and pettiness, little use of my legal skills. But but but... I got to teach. Was it worth it? A million times over.

I. This poem is about the misery of the poet John B., a refugee in Uganda since 18/7/2005 beginning after his father’s assassination by rebels during the war in North Kivu province in Goma district on the 30^th of June 2005 during the independence celebration day of the DRC.

I SHALL EXPLAIN TO YOU SOME THINGS

You’ll ask what happened today?
And the orphans dreamy with poppies?
And the bad guns which kept beating out
The dreams of prophets uncompleted
With Nyiragongo – specks and stones?
I am going to tell you everything that happened to me
I lived near Rwanda in Goma town.
Quarter of good trees and paths
From there you could see
Christians: Protestants and Catholics
But, now like a volcano eruption
Our house was exploded
It was among the beautiful houses in Goma
Where all were Christians and students.

John, do you know?
Are you still getting ready?
Come back home and see
Mother, Sister and Brother’s death

Sergius, do you remember?
Mgwati, do you still remember in Virunga park?
My father assassinated
Do you remember how our house was?

Brother! Brother!
Loud voices weep
The town is smoking
My quarter is exploding

RCD/PM and MaiMai are fighting
Unfortunately for my family:
Killing people. And for my misery:
It was all of them.

Then tomorrow flames
Came out of my quarter
Dissolving human beings
From then on fire
Gunpowder from then on,
From then on blood.

Bandits and soldiers in convoy
Bandits all over the province
Came across the border to kill people
And through the roads all over the streets
The blood of people
Ran simply, like my family’s did.

Now, I am in exile
With strangers
My country and university I left
And I am destitute because of….

How many are refugees today?
How many orphans in this world?
See what they are going through
Why this tribalism and ethnic conflicts?

General Aamsi TF
Colonel Bindu
Look at our dead home
Look at broken Mabanga
Houses were burned
From every street in N-K
Congo will rise
From every dead child a rifle with eyes will rise
From every crime bullets will be born
Which will one day find a place in your hearts.

You ask why my poetry
Speaks to you of dreams and safety
Of the great life.

Come
See the death and blood along the quarters
Come see
The blood along the town
Come see
The death along the roads
See the blood
Come see the blood
Along the street…

- John B, Kampala Uganda

II This poem relates the joy of refugees, clients of RLP in Kampala Uganda, students in Sarah’s English class, second level. This poet writes this remembering the desperation of his situation here in Uganda when he approached RLP asking defense of his rights coming from Arua/Madiokollo, the third camp of his exile.

He thanks RLP for their defense, advice, research, legal assistance, and their offer of education because without education refugees will become nothing in the future.

I dedicate, he says, this to:

- Sarah his beloved teacher and to Genevieve, English first level teacher

- To RLP

- To the Education Ministry of RLP, and

- To his beloved lawyer PETER.

I SHALL SHOW YOU MY JOY

Longtime ago refugees asked themselves
How will they know English
Where will they go to learn from
What direction to take
And by the end
Who will be that volunteer?

Fortunately, in April 2006
Meeting volunteers at RLP
Sarah and Genevieve American ladies

My friend,
Do you know?
I know what? I do not
Oh! We have found!...
Yes, the milk of our eternal sciences lives
English course, and after: computer class.

Possible?
It is also for us our right here?
Perhaps!
But, I don’t think so!

Exactly, they already told me about RLP
We go there not only for rights
But, also to learn for our knowledge and futures
For us in exile.

Go there everybody you will see
You will meet them…
Sure, we can now speak English

But class! What do we say?
May God bless them
SARAH may God bless you
RLP may God bless all of you.

Do never abandon this career
Do never forget refugees in need
We also never forget you!

Teacher, go back to the USA in peace
Volunteers wherever you go
Back in peace
But, never forget us…

For all those who defend refugees
And human rights
I say –

Thank you! Thank you, thank you so much
Merci, merci, merci beaucoup
Pluros, multos, pluros mercis
Koko, koko, koko bwenene
Mwebale, mwebale, mwebalire dala
Aksanti, aksanti, aksanti sana

May live RLP and RLP’s staff
May live Sarah’s family
May live USA’s volunteers and Ugandan volunteers at RLP and others all over the world
May live Uganda human rights defenders
May live Education Ministry at RLP
May live, may live, may live!....

I thank you!

From John B.
At RLP
8/2/2006

  ¶ 6:13 AM