Ensuring the Right to Play
Sara E. Brown '05 believes children should have the opportunity to play--especially disadvantaged children. She is currently in Kibondo, Tanzania, working as a volunteer project coordinator with Right to Play, a Canadian-based humanitarian organization in 23 countries that uses sport and play as tools for the development of children and youth in the most disadvantaged areas of the world.
Brown's work targets disadvantaged communities and teaches children important development tools. She spends her days working in four camps within the Kibondo region--Mkugwa, Mtendeli, Nduta, and Kanembwa. Mkugwa--where residents from Burundi and Democratic Republic of the Congo are placed for fear of persecution within other camps and their home countries.
Brown and others work to recruit local coach-volunteers and then teach the core module of Right to Play, learning about child development, sport rules, coaching techniques, and games that target a child's body, mind and spirit. The goal of the program, she explains, ìis to let the kids be kids.î Brown plans to work with the Right to Play program until March 2007.
Brown's interest in working with the poor began at Clark. In the summer of 2004 she did a seven-week internship with the Alternatives to Violence Project in Rwanda, a position she created on her own with support from professors in the Holocaust and Genocide Studies program at Clark.
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Sara's Email from Tanzania: August 2006
We've been working as if on overdrive since August began. This is definitely the busiest month we've had and my partner has gone on holiday for a week so I am doing the work of two. Three weeks straight of full-day trainings as we prepare to further hand over the project to our coaches by training them to conduct trainings. After an evaluation period they will be prepared to lead many of the trainings that they currently rely upon us for. RTP is trying to have our projects run independent of international Project Coordinators as early as December 2007.
The last two weeks I was in Mkugwa camp, third week Nduta, and now half of the fourth back in Mkugwa wrapping up. Being in the camps every day for up to six days a week is incredibly informative. The coaches and the people become accustomed to you, and you get a small and briefly exposed window into their daily lives. It was a bonding experience for me and the coaches. In Mkugwa they got to joking that I was really living in Mkugwa and visited Kibondo, not vice versa. And they began to really talk to me, include me in their conversations, jokes and stories regarding so-and-so cheating on so-and-so or a fight between so-and-so and their neighbor. The censorship that I had become accustomed to was laid to rest by some of them, not by all, and I got the full treatment whether I liked it or not. During trainings, I began to understand their answers and explanations given in Kiswahili, allowing for my translator and main coach, Chris, to take a break. The local "hoteli" (or restaurant) owner, Omari, began making spaghetti every afternoon for me and even the local drunk began to know my schedule, showing up to harass and annoy me and the coaches at the same time, same place, every day. Fortunately for us, we got to know his schedule, too.
And as a result of this time spent in camp, I got to meet Rambo, Schwartzenegger, and Tai Chi. Sitting around the table at lunch, Chris made mention of Rambo several times in Swahili, joking with the others and clearly telling a story. I couldn't follow it so I asked for a translation. Apparently Rambo, Schwartzenegger and Tai Chi had beat up someone who had picked on Tai Chi. "Is this some sort of new movie?" was my first question much to Chris' amusement. No no, Rambo, Schwartzenegger and Tai Chi are kids that live in the camp, they are all but orphaned by their drunk and incapacitated mother, and so they decided to leave her house, live on their own, give themselves new names, and hunt for domestic cats when they cannot find other food. They are supposed to receive rations like everyone else but the details are unclear. But these kids are tough as hell and just shrug, pick up, and head to the woods to hunt cats. But here is what really struck me. Rambo, the eldest and clearly the leader, is 9 years old. Schwartzenegger is 7 and Tai Chi is 5. At 5 years old, I could barely wash myself. And at 9, I definitely could not have made the decision to leave my mother's home, finding her unfit, and take my two younger brothers with me. Granted, much of this story is second or third hand, Mkugwa camp loves its rumors, and I am still in the process of sorting the details. However, it made an impression upon me.
The first time I met Rambo he was quiet and rather shy. I had asked to meet him and since the average portion of rice given at lunch is enough to fill a small rice paddy, I had food leftover and offered it to him. Rambo came in, sat down at the end of the bench, took the bowl and spoon and slowly, carefully, with a certain degree of dignity and respect, began to eat. He didn't use his hands as many children do, he didn't shovel the food into his mouth for fear of having the bowl taken from him, he took his time, answered questions, and began to steal glances at me, smiling each time and looking down. And so I fell for Rambo. Because this little tough guy, with his shirt oversized and filthy beyond the point of recognizing its original color, who will calmly explain his hunting exploits to you, this little man is still a child. If you offer him a frisbee or a ball his entire face lights up. And his smile is one of those rare smiles that takes up the entire face and swallows the eyes, cheeks, nose, and forehead in it. And he glows under the slightest bit of maternal attention, the cup of a hand under his chin or a pat on the head. The other day I reminded him of my name and he turned to me and said "My name is Alex." Rambo was gone and instead there was a little boy named Alex who wanted to borrow my hacky sack to play a game.
Next his little brothers Schwartzenegger and Tai Chi were introduced to me and they are just as self confident, respectful, and a little more playful. Every day after lunch they call my name, I look up. They pump a fist into the air, turn it, and give me a thumbs up, the best kind of thank you I've received out here. And quite unusual from the children I've interacted with who usually take and disappear--running off with my empty water bottles, sporting equipment, or juice given at a play day. These kids take the trouble to get my attention and thank me.
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When you volunteer, you aren't in it for the money or for the position; you are there out of a love for the work, the people, or a great commitment and belief. And you even give it gladly, because otherwise you would not be able to rest at night.
