Thoughts on Routine

My time in Rwanda is coming to an end. I have tried to capture the essence of my experiences through this blog, but have only been able to provide snapshots of life in Africa. I have therefore been searching over the last few days for a dominant theme that can unite these fragmented threads of experiences into whole cloth.

I think I have found one: the dual nature of routines. This might seem like a strange theme, so let me provide some context.

Context:

When I first arrived in Nyagatare, everything was new and strange. I had no daily rituals, and had to fumble my way through the first few days. Those days were exciting - I felt alive, constantly evaluating changes in my environment and making decisions. After about 3 days, I had found my bearings and constructed a routine.  The next few days, devoid of any day trips outside Nyagatare, were ordinary. In fact, it seems like vast stretches of time were just a meaningless blur; my daily rituals had usurped the richness of the experience. This realization prompted me to reflect on the role of routine.

On Routine:

The human mind has a certain predilection for patterns. We construct routines and follow them because it reduces the uncertainty in our lives and makes it easier to predict the future. Routines are necessary and healthy. In fact, good habits are the foundation for future success. Olympic athletes follow the same series of gruelling exercises day after day to train their bodies. The smartest people I know follow study at the same time, for the same amount of time, every day to train their minds. I know that the habits (or routines) I inculcate today will literally determine the quality of my future.

And yet, I remain deeply ambivalent about routines. It is frighteningly easy to lose one's identity in the daily hum drum of life. Routines are built on a series of assumptions about the world - these assumptions may have been accurate at a certain point in time, but most of them have not been fully examined. In some cases, the routine may be so deeply ingrained into one's life that the original assumptions that created the routine are forgotten. This is why so many people "find" themselves when travelling. In the process of creating a new routine, they reexamine the fundamental assumptions about the world that they haven't examined for a long period of time.

My worst fear is waking up 20 years from now, following the exact same rituals, without making any conscious decisions. Living life by default, rather than by design. Allowing my routine to be my identity. Socrates once said that an unexamined life is not worth living. Routines are dangerous because they make it so easy to stop questioning one's fundamental assumptions about the world, and by extension, to stop living a conscious life.

Now I see the common thread that weaves through all my blog posts. They were experiences that were outside the routine and caused a shift in perspective. If there is one thing I have come to understand because of Rwanda, these shifts in perspective are what make life worth living.

For the next two weeks, we will be travelling to Kampala, Nairobi, Arusha and the Serengeti, Dar-Es-Salaam, and finally Zanzibar. I will update when I can!

Kigali

We took a trip to Kigali, the capital of Rwanda, this past weekend. This will be a lengthy, and perhaps disjointed, post. I experienced a full range of emotions that will be difficult to describe succinctly and logically; there were moments of hilarity, juxtaposed against moments of deep sadness, often within hours of each other. It is best to proceed chronologically.

Friday Afternoon: 

After finishing class and eating a bland lunch, we proceeded to the bus depot to catch a bus. Honestly, a big part of our motivation to go to Kigali was simply to gorge on different kinds of food, as the local kitchens only provided tepid variations of beans and rice. I was already looking forward to finding some good Indian food.

The bus depot was a steaming mess of cars, cargo, and salesmen. We somehow managed to get onto the very back of a van, and became prepared to sit in a tight knee-to-knee position for the next 3 hours.

After the van was filled beyond its natural (maybe even legal) capacity, we set off down the muddy road at 150 km/ hour. Before long, we could actually smell burnt tire as the van whizzed through the Rwandan countryside.

After about an hour, we encountered an accident ahead of us and slowed to a stop. Policemen with AK-47's seemed to be facilitating some kind of emergency rescue. Our driver, ever the daredevil, grew frustrated with the slow pace of the rescue and decided to drive into on-coming traffic to get past the accident.

He then promptly accelerated back to 150 km/ hour.

Friday Evening:

We arrived in Kigali about an hour before schedule. The city is incredibly clean and developed. It actually looks like a Greek island I visited back in 2008 (see picture).

After finding our bearings and stretching our legs, we checked into the Discover Rwanda Youth Hostel near the centre of the city. The hostel had an upstairs patio with a fantastic view of the city (see picture). Fellow travellers from the US, the UK, and Australia were enjoying the view while puffing on cigarettes and sipping imported beer.





We set out for dinner at Khaana Khazana, which literally means "food treasure" or the "treasure of food" in Hindi. Oh, and what a gem of a restaurant it was. I ate hot naan and paneer like a glutton, washing the glorious food down with mango lassi. In my mind, the meal alone justified the entire trip.



Saturday Morning:

When I told my friends that I would be travelling to Rwanda this summer, their immediate reaction was one of concern and fear. This is understandable: 20 years ago, Rwanda experienced one of the worst genocides in human history. We went to the Genocide Memorial in Kigali on Saturday morning. The Memorial was commemorating the 20th anniversary of the genocide, and the flowers were placed on the graves of over 250,000 Rwandans.



The Memorial itself was split into 3 main sections: pre-genocide, genocide, and post-genocide. The division between Hutu and Tutsi was actually implemented by the Belgian colonizers. Rwandans who had longer noses and more than 10 cows were called Tutsi's and became the administrative class, ruling over the majority Hutu's. After the Belgians left, a division that was based on the length of one's nose became the fuel for poisonous ethnic hatred and violence.

The genocide was not a spontaneous event - it was the culmination of over 50 years worth of boiling hatred between Tutsi's and Hutu's. And nobody was spared once the killing began. Our guide actually came to Rwanda as a child in 1995 and remembers seeing corpses of men, women, and children on the side of the road.

Given these facts, the recovery has been astounding. It is a real testament to the strength of the human spirit. Brick by brick, Rwanda has rebuilt its institutions and infrastructure to achieve one of the fastest GDP growth rates in Africa, despite being landlocked and having few natural resources. The genocide is not merely a memory here: it serves as a constant reminder to do better.

Teaching Begins!

The Language Barrier:

We began delivering our course, Business Decision Making with Cases, on Monday.

The course is 3 weeks long and covers concepts in finance, marketing, operations, and strategy, using local African businesses as case studies. Each case describes a business problem, and students use both qualitative and quantitative data to identify the root causes of the problem, debate various solutions, and finally recommend an implementation plan.

There’s just one problem – most of our students don’t speak fluent English. In fact, English is their 3^rd language, after Kenyarwandan and French. For obvious reasons, this makes a lively case discussion difficult.

Dean Tumwesige, our main contact at the university, has a compelling explanation for the lack of English:

“There’s no incentive to learn English well for these students. Everybody in Rwanda speaks the local language, and so they can get by quite easily. If you go to Uganda, you will find that most people speak excellent English. This is because there are 56 tribes in Uganda, each with a different language. They therefore need to learn English to communicate with each other, not just with foreigners.”

He elaborated further:

“We want you to always teach in English, since it is the language of international business. Even if these students stay in Rwanda, they will be interacting with businesses around the world. They need to understand the importance of effective communication.”

Microfinance:

I taught a case on microfinance yesterday, and I could categorize the students into two distinct groups within the first thirty minutes. I am sure that these groups are fairly consistent across any classroom in the world (feel free to categorize yourself!)

Group A:

These were students who arrived early, sat in the front row, spoke excellent English, and prepared the case.  They were eager to contribute to the case discussion and impress the instructor and their peers.

Group B:

Group B students arrived 10-15 minutes late and sat near the back. They chatted amongst themselves during the class, texted on their phones, and were generally in the class because their fellow Group B members were in the class.

There were however, certain anomalies. In the middle of my case, I asked a fairly straightforward question. As usual, my Group A’s had their hands in the air, and my Group B’s had their fingers on their phones.

I continued to scan the room when I encountered a third group of students, who I will call Group C. These young men and women were clearly paying attention; their brows were knitted in concentration. But not even one of them had their hands up. If they were interested and paying attention, why did they choose not to contribute? I was puzzled, but moved on.

After class, one of the Group C’s (whose name was Ismail) came up with a Group A (whose name was Violet)

“He wants to thank you for the class. He understood most of it but is not confident to speak in English. Can he contribute to the class discussion in French?” said Violet.

I literally laughed out loud. I explained I would have to spend all my time on Google Translate if Ismail spoke in French.

Ismail nodded, shook my hand, and vowed to improve his English over the next 3 weeks. I could tell that he meant it.

Ismail and his fellow Group C’s are very brave. I could never take a course where the language of instruction was French or Spanish. Most students (myself included) shy away from situations that expose their inadequacies. Kudos to the Group C’s for taking a risk and striving for self-improvement.

                                                                   The Class

Childlike Wonder

I woke up at the break of dawn, excited to jog for the first time through the muddy roads of Nyagatare. I laced up my bright yellow Nike running shoes, plugged into my Workout mix on my iPhone, and set off down the road.

Nyagatare is breathtaking in its beauty. In the morning, lush green mountains stood guard over valleys filled with tall green grass. The air was fresh, the sky was the perfect shade of blue, and a faint breeze kissed the skin. In fact, I was so entranced by my surroundings that I failed to notice the stares of the local residents as I jogged beside their houses.

In their defence, I must have looked like an alien who had dropped in from Mars. Nyagatare seems like a town where everyone knows everyone. Young men stared at me with narrow eyes; I detected curiosity in their eyes, but also a tinge of suspicion. Older women and men smiled and greeted me in Kenyarwandan when I walked past them. One old man even stopped me and said, in heavily accented English: “Hello, good morning!”

I continued jogging up a steep hill when I encountered a group of children. They could not have been more than 3 years old.  I started walking towards them when one of them, a small boy, registered my presence. He was such a tiny thing – he couldn’t even reach my shins. He left the group and started waddling towards me with a big bright smile and eyes wide with wonder. We were within 5 feet, when suddenly, he ran forward and wrapped my legs in a warm embrace. I was shocked, but also deeply touched. I patted the back of his head and then continued on my run. The boy went back to his group.

Preconceptions:

For the rest of the run, I thought about that boy, and the huge role that preconceptions play in all of our lives. When I meet a new person, I am viewing his actions through the lens of all of my preconceptions. I am evaluating the way he speaks, the way he dresses, and basically sizing him up in the first few seconds. My size-up, and by extension, my first opinion, is made almost instantaneously because of inherent biases that have been built over years of life. I am alert for signs of danger, and conscious of protecting my interests.

Children don’t have biases. They simply accept the world as a place of wonder and joy. I wish that I could live my life like that- inherently trusting of my fellow humans, and always curious about the next wonder around the corner. As that child wrapped me in his warm, trusting, embrace, I understood that life could be incredibly simple and pure.

Motivation

Motivation:

My interest in Africa began when I was in Grade 9. I was on a Christmas break and a new Leonardio DiCaprio movie, Blood Diamond, had just been released in theaters. To be honest, I went to see it because it seemed like a fun action movie.

After watching the movie, my mind exploded with questions. Is that what Africa is actually like? What factors drive the poverty and wealth of different nations? How can poor, war-ravaged countries improve the lives of their citizens? While these questions were important, one particular question became lodged into my consciousness and has stayed there ever since: Why does the accident of birth play such a large role in a person’s life?

The accident of birth question remains particularly relevant to me even today. I am convinced that I have not earned the gifts of a strong education, financial security, and a healthy body. I was born into the right family, raised in the right country, and any success that I have achieved is mostly the result of fortunate circumstances. The question I ask myself now is: what if I had been born poor in Africa, without the protection of a wealthy family and a wealthy government? What path to happiness and success would I have followed then? What would my definition of success even be?

I joined this course because I am seeking answers to these questions. I may not receive an answer by the end of these next 6 weeks – in fact, it is more than likely that I will be more confused than before. But I believe that if I expose myself to people from vastly different backgrounds, and make an active effort to understand their struggles and triumphs, I will become a wiser and more humble person. At the very least, I will begin to view the world with softer eyes.

Teaching:

It is an old truism that teaching is the best way to learn. The mental processes involved in making a concept interesting, understandable, and challenging for a student necessitates deep understanding of the concept by the teacher. Therefore, teaching business concepts using the case method to my African peers accomplishes two of my goals: I will understand business concepts more thoroughly, while interacting with real Africans every day. By teaching, I will understand their world-view more intimately than I could any other way.

Furthermore, I believe that the key to solving Africa’s problems is business and the free market. Profitable businesses can provide jobs, training, and a sense of purpose, while dramatically improving the standard of living for the average citizen. Businesses can also create the incentives for innovation and risk-taking that are the foundation of long-term prosperity. The case method develops the critical analytical and communication skills needed to solve business problems. It is also the best way to learn how to embrace ambiguity. Too often, traditional learning encourages shallow understanding of concepts and provides the false comfort of a “right” answer. While this is efficient for evaluation purposes, the real world is draped in ambiguity and complexity that cannot be wished away with simplified assumptions. The case method, while imperfect in multiple ways, teaches students to tolerate ambiguity without letting it paralyze their decision-making process. I hope that exposure to the case method will improve my African students’ business acumen, and by extension, improve their ability to lift their society into higher standards of living.

Course:

The pre-departure classes were incredibly helpful. My first observation is how comfortable my fellow students were at leading case discussions at the front of the classrooms. I found that my peers’ teaching styles flowed directly from their personality, and that the diversity of teaching styles actually enhanced the learning process. Some teachers allowed the class discussion to develop organically, while others forcefully directed the flow of the discussion towards the central learning goals.

My own teaching style was described as intense, and I think this definitely reflects my personality. I have very little tolerance for illogical arguments and assertions that are not backed by facts. There is a fine line, however, between intensity and intimidation. I believe students must be comfortable asking challenging questions of the instructor, and the classroom environment should encourage differing points of view. I will therefore consciously reduce the aggressiveness of my questioning when teaching.

Conclusion:

I am currently suspended in mid-air somewhere over Europe, hurling at 800 miles per hour towards the center of Africa. I have no idea who is meeting us at the airport in Kigali, or who I will be teaching, or even where I will be staying for the next 6 weeks. It is frightening.

When leaving Toronto this morning, I felt a little like Frodo Baggins leaving the comfort of the Shire for adventure and the unknown. I could have easily just stayed in Toronto for the summer, eating my mother’s wonderful food and reading good books. But my understanding of human nature would have remained largely the same. And the questions that have been circulating in my head since I first saw Blood Diamond almost 8 years ago would have remained questions.

I am choosing to go to Africa because I am choosing to pursue answers, regardless of the form these answers may arrive in. Stay tuned for future reflections.