Sunday, July 18, 2010

Idaho Dad vs Rawand’s Roads vs Wheelchairs

Idaho Dad vs Rawanda's Roads vs Wheelchairs

At this moment, my father, Idaho Dad, is in Rawanda doing…. we’re not sure. However, a blogger down there has posted the following article about what he is up to:

Randy, the engineer among us, soon discovered the Ubumwe Center, which helps people with quite a variety of handicaps. On Friday afternoons, they have music and games; when we visited last Friday, there was a long drumming session, but not much else.

Today when we arrived, it was clear that a delegation of important people was being shown around, so we just sat down on a bench in the shade, and enjoyed the cool breeze and view, which I think went all the way down to Lake Kivu. A number of people came by; pretty much every one of them stopped to greet us, many in English.

A youngish woman was sitting in a wheel chair near our bench; she clearly had poor control of both her face and her limbs, but everybody who came by stopped to greet her, and it was amazing to see how her face lit up each time. Sometimes she managed some indistict sounds, and the other person would respond with some simple words in Kinyarwanda, which she seemed to understand.

Out in the courtyard two men, one on crutches, were working on stringing up what looked like a volleyball net. I squelched an impulse to go and help them; they really COULD do it themselves. When they finally stretched it out, though, they fastened it almost low enough to be a tennis net. The man on crutches came past our bench; despite his long trousers, we could see that one leg was shorter, and that foot didn’t reach the ground; he was really walking on his crutches and only one leg. He went past us into a doorway, then came back out with a volley-ball sized ball. Somehow he managed to balance on his one good foot and use the crutches to pick up the ball, which he flung at the girl in the wheelchair. She managed to raise her arm and bat it back to him. This was repeated several times; the expression on her face was sublime. At one point, he was a bit distracted, and the ball just rolled towards her; with an expression of extreme concentration, she leaned over and almost managed to touch it - I think this was the most purposeful control of a limb I saw the whole time I watched her.

I would have liked to take a picture of her, but felt I should ask someone else for permission; sadly, someone came and wheeled her away before I could make the picture happen.

Then the drums were brought out - a whole line of them across the courtyard - mostly big ones, to be played standing up, but a few shorter ones, which could be played by someone in a wheelchair, or perhaps sitting on the ground. Everything takes time in Rwanda, but eventually drumsticks appeared (with a bit of a paddle-like end), and finally a dozen or so enthusiastic drummers. One drummer appeared to lead; the others followed as they were able. Clearly all of them were having a great time, including the blind man, the woman who walked with a limp, but jumped and danced happily as she drummed, and the mother whose toddler alternated between clinging to her skirts and wandering around quite independently behind the drummers.

The drumming didn’t last as long as last week; the players wandered away, and finally the drums, too, were cleared away. A woman came by, walking without assistance on an iron sort of cage instead of a foot. She walked out into the courtyard and sat down, where she was shortly joined by a man with no obvious disability, who took off his shoes and also sat down. The man on crutches brought the ball, and the two sitting people began tossing it back and forth. Sometimes one or the other had to sort of scuttle sideways to catch it; the woman was especially proficient at this. The man on crutches sat down, and the game was expanded to include him, and another man similarly on one leg and crutches, who came along.

A woman came along in a wheelchair; she had been one of the drummers, and had no legs below the knees. She dropped out of her wheelchair onto the cement courtyard, and scooted across to a position on the other side of the net. There she was joined by another man with no obvious handicaps - he would sometimes jump up and get the ball if it rolled out of everybody’s range, but there was also a ragamuffin little boy who often performed this function. Most often, the man on the far side of the net would toss the ball to the legless girl, who would tap it back to him; he’d then bat it across the net to the other side, where it would be passed around among a few players, and occasionally get back over the net. There seemed to be a great deal of co-operation occurring, not just among players on one side, but also in getting it over the net. One time, though, it went back over the net to the serving side, who didn’t manage to capture it before it rolled away, and a roar of triumph rose from the non-serving side, so it clearly wasn’t being played completely for funsies. When we left, they were still out there playing.

Randy, who has worked with a variety of wheelchair modifications back at home in Idaho, has found a niche for himeself at Ubumwe, where he is coming up with different ways to fix quite a stream of non-functional wheelchairs. (Unpaved roads of volcanic rock can be really hard on wheelchairs.) As for the rest o f us, who have mostly experienced the handicapped population of Gisenyi as pitiful-looking beggars at the busstop and market, it was truly an experience of joy and hope to see these people participating so happily in these lively activities.

Seeking the Light,

- Turtle

Off the Farm: The Story of Idaho Bob

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