I woke up Sunday refreshed after sleeping ten hours and would need it for what we were encountering, Murambi, an intense genocide memorial.  Many of the bodies are preserved with lime and are resting in the very buildings where they were killed.  Lying on what look like elevated beds without mattresses you move from room to room and building to building. The images and smell stick with you long after you leave the memorial. If you want to know more about it ask me. 

Yet you can only dwell on what you experienced for so long before you are herded to the next activity.  Tonight it was the Ministry of Defense who was hosting us in his conference auditorium for a lecture.  This man had a dynamic personality and laughed as we attempted to greet him with our limited Kinyarwanda vocabulary.  After the speech we were invited to a reception/happy hour in the lobby where we drank on empty stomachs and had an excellent time. 

After everyone was finished networking, we finally went to dinner to have a going away party for the Cal-Arts group.  Yet, it was hard for me to switch gears so quickly; in the morning we were remembering the dead but by evening celebrating the living and how the country has progressed. 

 

Friday night our young Rwandan hosts were kind enough to take us out for a taste of the Kigali nightlife.  We started off at a small street pub with cheap beer then to the club.  Once inside we found out it was a karaoke club.  A few brave souls in the group took on the challenge and belted out the words to You Can’t Start the Fire…let just say they are lucky no one had tomatoes to throw.

The late night made it a bit more difficult to get up on Saturday morning and catch the bus to Butare, a city two and a half hours southwest of Kigali.   The drive gave me time to nap and take in the sights of rural Rwanda, a strict contrast to the city.  In Butare we checked into the rooms where we would be staying overnight.  The rooms were in a Catholic Church compound and had comfortable beds. 

However, in order to take a shower you filled a bucket and poured it over you, there were no toilet seats, and my sink when used leaked all over my shoes.  We were only staying overnight so it worked out.  After we “checked-in” we departed for the rural village where we were able to watch the presentation of 12 cows to 12 women in the community.  The cows were through Bea’s fundraising and for the women of EMBASA, an organization that Bea facilitates Step-Up through.

Our arrival was greeted with singing, dancing, and smiles.  Again the kids came out to greet us as we took our seats.  In the one room building we were surrounded by women who were raped during the genocide and now have joined the organization for support, counseling, and business.  The neat part of this organization is that it offers microloans enabling women to support themselves and be vested in their future.  Through their cows they are able to have milk, breed them, and meat.  Also they have started African beehives that produce honey to see at the market.  

Part of the celebration included refreshments; they cordially gave us water and corn on the cob.  The corn was interesting, it was not sweet corn like we are used to in the US and it is much harder.  You have to really gnaw on it to get the kernels off the cob.  I enjoyed it despite the differences. 

At one point during the program, this adorable African girl, probably about one year old, in a pretty lacy, silky green dress came up to me and sat on my lap.  She was not sure what to think of me and stared at me.    The program then concluded with dancing and singing outside where the cows were mooing and the roosters where crowing.  We shared in the joy of the dancing, signing, and celebration.  What struck me was that the backdrop to the celebration was the graves of the women’s husbands who were killed during the genocide.

After a morning spent in the classroom the Missouri/Nebraska team boarded the bus to Nyamamta to visit an organization called Faith, Victory, and Reconciliation.  The red dirt road to the village had remnants of the rainy season with deep ruts cuts by the running water.  As our journey continued it seemed as if we were in a parade, children of all ages would come running as we passed yelling with excitement. 

As their hands waved vigorously you can hear them yelling  “mazunga.”  This term is reserved for “white people” or “rich people” but also includes other foreigners who look different from the local characteristics. This trend continued as we pulled up to our destination, a mud brick house with a small frontcourt yard.  With wide smiles, laughter, and handshakes the members of the Faith, Victory, and Reconciliation organization greeted us like family. I felt as if we were in a wedding reception line waiting to meet the bride and groom.

However, my feelings of happiness and joyfulness were conflicted as I left this hut.  The shift occurred after I listened to the testimony of the man who was sitting next me. He was a middle-aged man wearing a green striped button down shirt, dark pants, and green sandals that had been stitched with white yarn where they had ripped.  As he spoke to our group he took off his trucker hat, as a sign of respect I suppose, and began to explain his story. During the Tutsi Genocide this man standing in front of us was one of the killers who took part in the extermination of his Tutsi neighbors. 

After the RPF liberated Rwanda this man was tried for his crimes in the Gacaca court, served his time, and returned to the village where he killed his aquaintances.  He was faced with the reality of living side by side with his victims and wanted to start a dialogue with them so they could live in peace.  This is how Faith, Victory, and Reconciliation was born, out of tragedy, grief, and anger villagers gathered for counseling sessions where they were able to learn to trust each other again.  What was unexpected though was that once the counseling sessions were complete they still wanted to sustain the bonds that had formed. 

Faith, Victory, and Reconciliation members work together to help each other through friendship, support, and farming operations such as tomatoes and peanuts.  As we were leaving the members kindly presented each of us with some fresh peanuts from their crop, they were delicious!  Yet as I ate and shared these peanuts with the children the image that stuck in my mind was the hands of the man sitting next to me.  Those were the hands that held the machete, swung the machete, and devastated the lives of many. But those were also the hands that survivors held as they prayed together, the hands that worked the fields, and the hands that received forgiveness.  I am astounded at the attitudes of the Rwandan communities in their ability to offer forgiveness and make amends with those who committed such unspeakable events.

I was going to post my blog entries early this morning while people were still sleeping but since I forgot to charge my computer last night so that plan didn’t work out.  Finally, although I am exhausted, I am going to blog now.  Sorry to those who have been checking for an update, here it goes…

Last night a few of the Missouri/Nebraska trip members spent time out on the back lawn relaxing and distressing from two days of intense testimony. Godfrey, our Rwandan friend, joined us for a couple of drinks and in return we taught him the American pastime of drinking games.  The night was quite interesting and entertaining; Jared impersonated Eric, one of the leaders from California who is very artistic, Dan showed off his fanny pack, and Emily got her flirt on with Godfrey.

As the sun came up this morning I opened my window to let the cool breeze in, it was a refreshing start to the morning.  The climate in Rwanda is temperate, much better than the sticky July weather in Missouri.  It warmed up in the afternoon when we walked next door to AVEGA, an NGO that works with widows and widowers of the genocide.  The program offers healthcare, business assistance, and other resources to those men and women who have struggled after the genocide.  They focus the program on sustainable living and empowering survivors.  In addition there is a store called Peace Baskets that makes traditional African baskets.  You can actually buy them at Macy’s…check it out.

One aspect of Rwanda that has impacted me is how friendly and forgiving the people are.  They are now living as one society, one culture, and helping each other in order to achieve this.  The divides of the past are being abolished which is allowing them to move forward into the future.  Why does it take appalling events to make a change?

The unique aspect about studying in Kigali is that the classroom moves around the city.  First we had a lecture in the IGSC building in the morning but in the afternoon we went to an association called INEZEA.  This is a place where women sew various products to sell.  The variety of items included purses, wallets, slippers, potholders, dolls, yoga mats, and much more, each is made out of authentic African fabric.  The fabric patterns are brightly colored and bold, just like the women who make them.  Beyond the fabric and threads are the courageous stories of the genocide survivors.

The women who worked in the shop are all survivors of the genocide yet some women were targets of the genocide while others were married to men who carried out the atrocities.  What strength, understanding, and faith these individuals have to embrace each other and offer forgiveness.

As the hum of the sewing machines (which are all manual) comes to a halt the voices of the women can be heard.  Each had a unique story but they all share the same experience. These women were raped and subsequently infected with HIV during the Tutsi Genocide in 1994. In the beginning of the presentation they did not feel comfortable giving their testimonies.  Yet after they spoke and we asked questions about their sewing cooperative their comfort level increased. 

The women then wanted to share their testimonies with our group as part of their healing processes.  To them the trauma was extremely difficult to confront but each time they speak of what happened it helps them heal.  It also allows their stories to travel the globe so others won’t have to experience what they went through and the horrors they are still living with today, 15 years after the genocide.  As these women work together and congregate each day they help each other cope with their struggles.  The simple act of bringing these survivors together lets them know that they are not alone and are not forgotten.

As we were concluding the women began thanking us for the sacrifices we made in order to come to Rwanda.  I struggled with this because I rode over on a nice airplane with movies, food, clean rags to wash my face, and drinks.  This was not much of a sacrifice at all; it is a luxury that I am thankful to have the opportunity to participate in.  These women survivors are courageous, inspiring, and gracious despite what they have and are still going through.   

My day started this morning when the alarm went off at 6:30.  This morning was the first time I noticed that I have a mosquito bite on my ankle, hope I don’t develop malaria.  Then breakfast was cut short when we were informed that the bus was ready to take us to the government building.   The center is where we will be taking our class, which consists of modules.  Each module focuses on a different issue in regards to the genocide and there is a different speaker who specializes in that area.

The first module was an opening ceremony where we were introduced to the committee of IGSC (Interdisciplinary Genocide Studies Center).  Since not all the officials speak English there was a translator present.  It was interesting that they were speaking in their native language but that makes it challenging to hold my attention. 

Finally we had a tea and coffee break to refuel on caffeine.  Right after that we got a tour of the government building in which the first public library of Kigali is located on the first floor.  Keep in mind this is no Ellis Library like a Mizzou.  Instead it is just one wall of books with a couple bookshelves donated to newspapers.

After the tour guess what time it was?  Lunchtime I feel like we are always waiting to eat, eating, or sitting around after our meal.  I guess that is how meal times roll in Africa or they don’t want their guests to go hungry because they want people back home to look down on Africa.  They want outsides to know that even though it is a third-world country they have food for their guests.

Normally we sit around after the meal for about an hour but today we were proactive and decided to take the extra time to go on a walk.  Emanuel served as our guide and we made our way to a book.  I bought a translation book between the Kinyarwandan and a Rwandan parable book.  The parable book is neat because it gives it in Kinyarwandan, French, and English.

Our walking journey continued down a few back roads where the views were amazing.  You can really see a from hill to hill to hill.  I was glad we went on the walk because I needed some exercise.  I have felt a bit contained and antsy spending our time only in the hotel and on a bus.

Now I am in class listening to a gentleman speak about Human Rights and Genocide.  After this lecture we will have another tea and coffee break before the next lecture, then dinner and the hotel.  Today we finish class at 20:30.

Today started off on a good note, I had peanut butter on my toast for breakfast with Rwandan coffee.  Fabulous!  Then we boarded the bus to take a trip to two memorials outside the city.  We actually picked up four more passengers for our trip, two crisis counselors from Mizzou and the second in command of the US Embassy, Anne, and her husband Carl who is a psychiatric nurse.

I was talking to Carl on the bus when we all of the sudden I realized we were out of the city and the view from the top of the hill was breathtaking.  I actually stopped mid-conversation to stare because I was in awe.  You could see hills for miles.  We drove through the hills for about an hour when we turned down a dirt road.  Our guides asked us to close the bus windows because it was extremely dusty.  Then through the dust we arrived at the first memorial, Nyamata.

Nyamata was a catholic church located in rural Rwanda where Tutsis first fled from the killings in 1992 and were protected.  However, in 1994 when they returned to their church for safety they were not a lucky.  The interhamwe, many who were fellow parishioners, broke through the gate to the parish where they began to torture, mutilate, and slaughter the people inside.  They used fear as a means of torture because people inside the church saw the unspeakable ways they were going to be killed.  I was disgusted and repulsed.

Since we had arranged to visit the church through the ministry we were able to take pictures and a survivor gave us a tour of the memorial. Charles, our guide, was eight years old in 1994 when he fled to the church with his family for protection.  He was the only one in his family to survive; his twin brother, mother, and other brother we killed.  His brother actually saved his life because he smeared his own blood on Charles so he could play dead.  I could only image how horrible that must have been for Charles, he couldn’t tell us all the details because it was to difficult to talk about 15 years later.  Charles then fled the church and spent 21 days in the marshes hiding from the killers before the RFP came to liberate the region.

As Charles told his story the sounds of worship swept across the courtyard.  It was ire to hear sounds of praise, joyfulness, and faith so close to where the massacres happened.  The Genocide of Tutsis strengthened the faith of some but destroyed the faith of others.  Although Catholicism is no longer the leading church, many have switched to Pentecostal where they can dance, sing, and praise the Lord.  Which side would you have chosen?

Behind the church were burial grounds for the people who were killed that April in the church.  There were two large concrete cellar-like structures that make up the backcourt yard.  On top of these concrete slabs are purple and white flowers, wreaths, and single stems to remember those who were lost.  Just four steps down into these cellars there are two tiny isles, one of each side.  Each is lined with shelves where the skulls, bones, and coffins of those left to die in the church.  This is also the final resting place of Charle’s family.  It is overwhelming to walk down these thin isles.

After this memorial we made our way to another rural church, Ntarama.  Again people fled to the church for refuge but instead met their deaths.   The image that is still burnt into my mind is the small, one room Sunday school building where there is a large dark spot on the front wall.  It was explained to us that this is where the killers smashed the heads of the children.  

As we tried to process the events that took place here 15 years ago we did so with children laughing in the background.  They are the next generation of Rwandans who will lead, promote, and change the future of the country.  It is interesting though that one of our hosts made the comment that the people here are all new.  They are people who were exiled during the 50’s, 60’s, and 70’s before the genocide and now return to their home country.  Yet this was only made possible because a tenth of the Rwandan population was killed in 1994.

The ride back to Kigali was very somber as we contemplated what we experienced at the memorials.  It did give a few of us a chance to talk to Anne the second in command of the US Embassy in Kigali.  She will be stationed in Kigali for three years and her job is to build relationships between the US and Rwanda.

Lunch was a buffet at another hotel but this hotel was different, it had a swimming pool.  However, we didn’t bring our “swimming costumes” with us so we couldn’t hop in.   Instead we went back to the hotel where we planned to walk to city streets before dinner to familiarize ourselves with the culture.  First we were going to grab a quick cup of coffee and then we would be on our way.

Well quick didn’t happen.  We placed our order for coffee and sat around a table in the back courtyard of the hotel.  Coffee and teatime in Rwanda is a production.   A whole drink buffet is set up tableside and it takes almost an hour to get the coffee.  We joked that our coffee was made with freshly plucked coffee beans.

Since coffee time was extended we only had an hour before dinner to go on our walk.  We were only five minutes away from the Bloom Hotel when a man came up to us and began shaking our hands.  It was Dominique our coffee time waiter who just got off work. He tried to teach us some Kenya-Rwandan, the native language, and we tried to teach him English.  It was entertaining to say the least.

When we returned to the hotel dinnertime got delayed because the Cal-Art students were not back from their weekend trip.  It got pushed so far back Melissa, Roshani, Emily and I watched Sometimes in April in our room instead.  Fig Newton’s and goldfish are what we had for dinner.

 

Today started out in a bit of a daze, I needed more sleep.  I got up and unpacked some of my stuff so I could get ready for the trip to the Kigali Memorial Center.  That of course took longer than I thought so I scrambled to the hotel restaurant for a quick breakfast.  The restaurant is an open-air patio with fruit and homemade bread.  I got some Rwandan coffee, a slice of bread and fresh pineapple.  It was very delicious, then the waiter guy brought me what I think was an omelet and I tried to eat as much of it as I could because I didn’t want to be rude.  It was kind of like a thin fried egg but I don’t like eggs in general so I could only handle a few bits before I was done.  Lucky I was supposed to go meet the bus, which gave me an excuse to leave.  The rest of the meal was wonderful.  For the bread there was this mixed red berry compote to put on it and fresh boiled milk for the coffee.  I think breakfasts will be my favorite meal here.

After a short trip on the bus we were let out at the Memorial.  It is a secure location and you have to get searched to enter by two guards.  They even take the metal detector wand to see if you are coming in with anything.  The memorial itself is like a garden with several paths.  If you didn’t know it was a memorial you would never know that there were 258,000 people buried beneath the concrete slabs.  It is a solemn experience to walk through the memorial. 

Inside the building there are three exhibits that talk about the history of the genocide and what lead up to it.  Then there is a room where there are simple 4 x 6 photos hanging on metal wires that line the walls. These are pictures of those who lost their life in the genocide.  In addition there was a small room where there were display cases of skulls and other human bones.  You see the people of Kigali are still today finding the remains of people murdered during the genocide and they are brought to the memorial center.

The last exhibit was upstairs and it was dedicated to the children of the genocide.  There were large pictures of children with plaques below with facts about each child.  The plaques listed things such as their name, how old they were, their favorite food, and always ended how they were killed.  The one that still sticks out to me was one child whose plaque read smashed against a wall.  Words used in the different exhibits were very colorful and they didn’t hold back.  I don’t know if that is because the events were so recent and people are encouraged to share their stories or what it is.

Yet as I walked through the memorial and read the exhibits I still felt like I was able to distance myself from the events.  It is like reading about the holocaust in history class in high school.  The events are tragic, horrific, and incredibly sad but if you say that was back then it is almost like a defense mechanism.  When it really starts to get to me is when I think of it in the context of the people we have gotten to know and how they couldn’t go through all the exhibits because it was still too difficult and emotional.  Then that makes it harder to put that distance between the events.

Lunch was at a hotel restaurant and took about 2hrs.  The meals are long here and a time to socialize.  It is hard to talk to people though because we are seated a long tables so you can’t really hear anyone except the people to either side of you.  Meal times turn into a game of telephone and yes the messages get messed up.  Such as when we were trying to say “cheers” in Kenya-Rwandan but by the time it reached our end of the table it sound like youhaveherpes.

When we finally finished lunch the bus made a stop at the hotel to drop off the instructor and I got off too, the rest of the group was going to exchange money.  I had a classmate do mine for me since I needed to take some time for myself and get in a nap.  I was kind of homesick which was made worse by being extremely tired.  I skyped with Em and my mom and that made me feel much better.  I felt even better after a long nap.

For dinner we went to some gorilla/jungle themed restaurant that was good.  The same buffet with the same food but we tasted this bread made out of maize that you dip in sauce.  The bread was bland but mixed with the sauce not bad.  The way you eat it is fun, you slice off a piece (it looks like a big scoop of ice cream) then ball it up in your hand like play dough until it is compact enough to dip.  We had crepes for desert that were sweet and tasted similar to a not so sugary donut.  The meal took about 3 hours and we were all tired by the end of it!

This day started up in the air on an eight-hour plane ride from Amsterdam to Nairobi but before we could get on the plane we had to go through security at the gate.  The line was moving fine until it suddenly stopped and we were asked to back away.  The security troops marched in and gathered around the x-ray camera.  In the end a woman who didn’t take her laptop out of her bag caused the delay. 

On the plane I was sitting next to what I think was an English man.  He was tall, not very talkative, and seemed nervous.  However, he was less nervous after he had two small bottles of gin from the first beverage cart after those two more gin and tonics with dinner.  Not bad except that meant he was falling asleep on my shoulder and his legs were in my small amount of space.  Thankfully I was in the isle seat.  For me the flight was long, restless, and I didn’t get much sleep.  The nice thing about the plane trip was that I read half of my book and I met a preacher who was going to Kigali.  He had been going to Rwanda since the genocide.

The next flight was from Nairobi to Kigali with a stop in Burundi.  This flight wasn’t bad because it was pretty empty.  I had the 3 seats to myself so I could stretch out and sleep.  There was a screaming baby that woke me up few times but I at least got to sleep.  We dropped people off in Burundi, which is south of Rwanda and finally were on the last leg of our trip to Kigali.

At the airport we got picked up and headed to the hotel about a 10-minute drive away.  My first impression of the city was that only the main roads are paved and there was a lot of dust.  The houses were made of corrugated metal roofs and brick walls with open-air windows.  There are houses up and down all the sides of the hills.  People were walking the streets everywhere.  However, they were nicely dressed in suits, dresses, and clothes like you would see in the US.

The hotel was nice and it is clean by Africa standards.  I am very happy here and feel lucky to be staying here.  After we took a little nap the group who were there (five of us) went to lunch at a restaurant.  It was a buffet with a wide spread of vegetables, rice, sauces, plantains, and potatoes.  The food was good but it is for sure trial and error to see what I liked.  We finished our lunch and were waiting around when the bus pulled up with the rest of the group members.  There were there to eat lunch and we had to wait until they finished before we could leave.  When you are severely jet lagged it is very hard to be patient and wait an hour and a half just sitting there.

After everyone finished we returned to the hotel where Maurine, out Rwandan guide took us to the market.  At the market your senses are overwhelmed from the colors you see the sounds you hear and the smells.  The smells at first kind of turn your stomach but after you think about it they are all natural, the fish, the flowers, the raw meat, the BO, the fresh fruits.  Each direction you are bombarded with a new smell.

As we kept walking Maurine took us to her house where she lives with her sister, her nieces and nephews.  They were all very cute and polite.  We sat in their living room and talked until it was time to go to dinner.  The house was very nice, had electricity, and had a LG flat screen TV.  Maurine served us water and Rwandan porridge, which was kind of sweet like oatmeal but much thinner.  You actually drank it like coffee.  It was nice sitting there but again we were severely jet lagged and in need of sleep.

When it was dinnertime we walked up the street to meet the bus and went to another restaurant to eat.  At dinner it was another buffet with the same type of food.  We did branch out and get to drink Primas (Rwandan beer) and Banana wine.  The beer was good and the banana wine was a bit too sweet for me.  In addition to being sweet it had an alcohol content of 14% so I only had a small glass.

Finally after dinner we went back to the hotel, showered, and slept.  It felt wonderful to sleep.  I am going to have to get used to brushing my teeth with bottled water though.

Buckingham Palace changing of the guard was a bit overrated and we spent most of the time people watching instead of guard watching.  There was a police lady on a horse yelling at anyone who stopped walking, I think you had to be there.  After about 1.5 hrs of watching the guard march around we decided we have had enough and headed back to the hotel to get our bags and a cab to the train station for the London Express to Heathrow.  It was sad saying bye to Em because I felt like we just go there.  I had so much fun with her and Ad it was the best way to see London for the first time. 

At Heathrow Ad and I were at different terminals so we split ways.  My traveling party of 2 just shrunk to a lonely 1.  I hope he made it home ok but I don’t know yet.  I am sure he will email me.  My flights then began…good times.  After finding out that my flight would be from gate 7 I sat down to do some reading because I had an hour and a half till boarding.  I needed a break from reading so I checked the flight board, now my flight was out of gate nine.  Ok I moved to the new gate.  Then right before boarding they decided to board from gate 12 so I made the 10-minute walk there.  I got on the flight for a quick trip to Amsterdam where I met up with the rest of the Mizzou kids.  It made me feel better that I was traveling with other people who had no idea what was going on in the different airports. 

Next stop after an 8 hr flight, Nairobi.