Greetings! This year, I opted not to post at all during the course. I've now been back in the US a little over two weeks and have wrapped up most course-related tasks - and decided that I could now offer some of my own thoughts.
First, this group of students was pretty darn spectacular and for that I'm profoundly thankful. Second, my staff colleague, Caroline Hilk, was fantastic. I can't fathom doing this work without another non-student along. Caroline, thank you, thank you, thank you - for everything including your photos! Though he may never see this, I want to publicly thank our guide, Yvan. He remains as amazing as ever.
This course was a little longer than that offered in 2012. Those who went gorilla trekking visited all three of the current national parks in Rwanda; others visited two. We visited all five provinces. In retrospect, I think we spent a bit too much time moving about. But, then, we also had terrific experiences everywhere we traveled.
In 2014, when I traveled to Rwanda alone, I met with my colleague Kazu Sasaki at the Protestant Institute of Arts and Social Sciences (PIASS). At that point I just wanted to learn more about what he was doing with the Peace and Conflict Studies program. Then I got this wild idea. How about a workshop with Hamline and PIASS students? Fortunately, as a result of my Fall 2014 First Year Seminar, I met three outstanding students who were willing to take this on. Sadly, one of them was unable to join us. But, Marissa and Tess remained and did terrific work. On Saturday, 4 June - as you can read here and here - we spent the day with the PIASS Peace Club. It's safe to say that the day exceeded all expectations. Why? Students were able to have one-to-one and small group conversations that would never have happened in a formal setting; e.g., a meeting with an NGO. And, the PIASS students were incredibly open about their thoughts, experiences, and questions. And, not just with regard to the genocide and, for example, issues surrounding Rwandan ethnic identities. Why, for example, do we in the US use the term "African-American" when we have no idea whether someone is of African descent? Take it from there. It was nothing short of fantastic. It was one of those experiences that you dare not try to replicate. I could give my own blow-by-blow debrief of the rest of the course. I'll spare you. In short, it was exhausting and wonderful.
Okay, just a couple of snapshots -
I've been following Team Rwanda off and on pretty much since its inception, as well as the blog of their Director of Marketing and Logistics, Kimberly Coats. They just happen to be headquartered in Musanze! So, while others were "chasing" gorillas, Kimberly generously gave us a tour of their home, the Africa Rising Cycling Center. Very cool for this (former) cyclist!
As others have noted, while in Huye we visited Inzozi Nziza for ice cream, twice - at the demand of the students. In addition to the ice cream, I highly recommend the film, Sweet Dreams, available to stream on several digital platforms. Here are a couple of Pipers enjoying the treats!
In closing, a few things of which to take note. First, a "hold the date" note. On the evening of Monday, 14 November, we may be kicking off a photo exhibit - part of International Week - with a panel discussion. I hope you can join us. I'll post details here and create a Facebook event later.
Second - and this is very, very, very preliminary... but I'm exploring the possibility of the Center for Justice and Law offering an educational trip to Rwanda - open to all - in January or May of 2018. This would be a non-credit, abbreviated version of the course. If you're interested in knowing more as things unfold, please contact me to be placed on a mailing list.
I'm going to cut myself off here lest this get too long. Thanks for "joining us" in our journey!
Documenting the ongoing relationship between Hamline University and the people of Rwanda
Tuesday
Monday
High Above the Canopy of Nyungwe Forest
Today the Hamline group ventured into the Nyungwe National Forest for a hike and canopy walk. Every one of our brave group made it across the high bridge hanging about 50 meters above the ground. It was a thrilling experience for us all!
On the way back to Huye we stopped at Les Étains de l'Étainerie de Huye. We learned the process of how tin is used to hand-craft beautiful pieces of art and jewelry.
On the way back to Huye we stopped at Les Étains de l'Étainerie de Huye. We learned the process of how tin is used to hand-craft beautiful pieces of art and jewelry.
No day of adventure is complete without a stop for ice cream. Thanks to Melissa's recommendation we visited Inzozi Nziza for ice cream. The women owners of this business were featured in the movie, Sweet Dreams. We enjoyed the coffee, honey, or chocolate ice cream so much we are headed back for breakfast tomorrow!
Sunday
New friendships, new views.
Yesterday we went to PIASS (Protestant Institute of Arts and Social Sciences) and met with students our age who are a part of a peace organization on their campus. We did ice breakers and got to know each other, then we began discussing the civil rights movement in the United States. It was really interesting to hear their perspective and their questions, it opened my eyes to things in my own culture that I would not have questioned otherwise. The conversations were very productive and really showed our cultural differences, but also showed that we all are working towards the same goal of peace in the world. After the discussion on civil rights, a PIASS student presented on the youth involvement in Rwanda regarding reconciliation after the genocide. This experience with the students was probably my favorite thing that we have done on this trip. Although we all have our history, we are all trying to make a better future for ourselves.
Today, one of the women from PIASS took me to church, I wanted to see what a Rwandan Catholic mass was like. It was beautiful, the music was very different from what I am used to at church in the United States, but I felt welcome and at home there. I'm glad I went to church because today was a very emotional day. We went to the Murambi Memorial Center with some of the students from PIASS, it is a site where tens of thousands of people were murdered in the genocide. They had human remains that were preserved at the memorial, and some of the students that we were with were very emotional. It is hard for me to explain how powerful the memorial is, so I will include a link in this blog for you to look at. After visiting the memorial, I was dealing with many emotions, especially towards my new friends from PIASS. And I hope that no one has to ever feel that pain in the future.
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Murambi_Genocide_Memorial_Centre
Today, one of the women from PIASS took me to church, I wanted to see what a Rwandan Catholic mass was like. It was beautiful, the music was very different from what I am used to at church in the United States, but I felt welcome and at home there. I'm glad I went to church because today was a very emotional day. We went to the Murambi Memorial Center with some of the students from PIASS, it is a site where tens of thousands of people were murdered in the genocide. They had human remains that were preserved at the memorial, and some of the students that we were with were very emotional. It is hard for me to explain how powerful the memorial is, so I will include a link in this blog for you to look at. After visiting the memorial, I was dealing with many emotions, especially towards my new friends from PIASS. And I hope that no one has to ever feel that pain in the future.
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Murambi_Genocide_Memorial_Centre
How the Heck Do I Make this Funny?
I like being funny when I blog. Making people laugh, or at least smile, is a great feeling. And I like using humor when faced with something heavy emotion-wise. Jokes and sarcasm make for great defense mechanisms.
At least, until you go to a Rwandan genocide memorial. Especially Murambi. Yeesh.
Suffice to say, it was bad. We're talking about mummified bodies frozen in their last moments of agony; that's not exactly a third grade field trip. A few students from a local college came with us and two of them collapsed sobbing at the first room.
Some people might use the word morbid to describe the display, and that might not be a bad term. Normally memorials are...well, clean, for lack of a better term. You'll read about what happened and maybe see the names and some photographs, but you don't actually see the bodies. Definitely not exactly as they died, where you can see for yourself how they died, whether they were begging or trying shield themselves or if it was too quick for them to try to defend themselves. Rwanda certainly knows how to leave an impression.
Everyone likes to compare the Rwandan genocide to the Holocaust, and I'm no exception. As I was thinking about this blog post (more like panicking, because seriously, how the hell am I supposed to write about this s***?) I started thinking about how people react to tragedies like this. Humor is my shield of choice. But at what point does that start to do more harm than good?
We've all heard a Holocaust joke or two, maybe more if you have the weird uncle who drinks too much and says things he really shouldn't. Very few people actually enjoy them, but for most of us we kind of shrug it off as just having bad taste. It happened ages ago, and it's not like it'll ever happen again.
Except...it did. Not against Jews, but against Tutsis. That underlying hatred is still there. It's on every inhabited continent and every country. Not even the US is exempt (*cough cough* Native Americans *cough*).
It's the distance that does it. After a tragedy, we shed our tears, put up a memorial or two, say our prayers, and promise never again. But then we forget about it. We make light of it. We make really bad jokes that dismiss the suffering of millions of people. We let hatred seep back into our respective societies and fester until it explodes in another horrendous tragedy, and the cycle starts anew.
Rwandan memorials don't do that, especially not Murambi. They don't just show you pictures that you can distance yourself from. They show you the bodies, the caved-in skulls and shattered ribs of innocent people, and they dare you to make light of it.
Humor's a great shield. It needs to remain a shield, not a weapon.
At least, until you go to a Rwandan genocide memorial. Especially Murambi. Yeesh.
Suffice to say, it was bad. We're talking about mummified bodies frozen in their last moments of agony; that's not exactly a third grade field trip. A few students from a local college came with us and two of them collapsed sobbing at the first room.
Some people might use the word morbid to describe the display, and that might not be a bad term. Normally memorials are...well, clean, for lack of a better term. You'll read about what happened and maybe see the names and some photographs, but you don't actually see the bodies. Definitely not exactly as they died, where you can see for yourself how they died, whether they were begging or trying shield themselves or if it was too quick for them to try to defend themselves. Rwanda certainly knows how to leave an impression.
Everyone likes to compare the Rwandan genocide to the Holocaust, and I'm no exception. As I was thinking about this blog post (more like panicking, because seriously, how the hell am I supposed to write about this s***?) I started thinking about how people react to tragedies like this. Humor is my shield of choice. But at what point does that start to do more harm than good?
We've all heard a Holocaust joke or two, maybe more if you have the weird uncle who drinks too much and says things he really shouldn't. Very few people actually enjoy them, but for most of us we kind of shrug it off as just having bad taste. It happened ages ago, and it's not like it'll ever happen again.
Except...it did. Not against Jews, but against Tutsis. That underlying hatred is still there. It's on every inhabited continent and every country. Not even the US is exempt (*cough cough* Native Americans *cough*).
It's the distance that does it. After a tragedy, we shed our tears, put up a memorial or two, say our prayers, and promise never again. But then we forget about it. We make light of it. We make really bad jokes that dismiss the suffering of millions of people. We let hatred seep back into our respective societies and fester until it explodes in another horrendous tragedy, and the cycle starts anew.
Rwandan memorials don't do that, especially not Murambi. They don't just show you pictures that you can distance yourself from. They show you the bodies, the caved-in skulls and shattered ribs of innocent people, and they dare you to make light of it.
Humor's a great shield. It needs to remain a shield, not a weapon.
Saturday
We made it!
After two days of traveling, including an overnight in Qatar, we've made it to Rwanda! The long flights, long lines, and long waits in airports were all worth, because this country is breathtaking. I see why they call it the land of 1,000 hills, they're everywhere! Our guide, Yvan, is very welcoming and informative, I see why our professor likes him so much. We haven't walked around much of Kigali today, we drove some, the motorcyclists are everywhere and we got to see the landscape and buildings from the van. We had dinner at Republika Lounge, the staff met us with smiles and LOTS of food. The food was traditional Rwandan food served family style, there was rice, fish, lamb, beef, chicken, spinach, beans, plantains, and samosas. Everything tasted delicious. The hostel is really cool, with a nice patio to socialize. We're all pretty tired from our travels, but so happy to be here. Tomorrow we will explore the city! If the first day was this amazing, I can't wait to see what the rest of this trip holds.
Airports, Hostels, and Little Fried Fish
We woke up in Qatar and are about to fall asleep in Kigali.
That may sound exciting, but really it was just exhausting. Minneapolis to Kigali took roughly 48 hours. We are inches shy of ODing on airport coffee and tray meals. Several of us almost fell face-first into dinner and slept at the restaurant.
That is a great thing about Kigali that I've discovered. For me, I'm all or nothing when it comes to my taste in food. I love Japanese cuisine but can't do Chinese. Authentic Mexican food hates me, but poorly-imitated American Mexican food is fine, and Italian food is even better. So going in, I knew that I was either going to have three weeks of cuisine heaven or I'd be rationing whatever snacks that survived the airplanes.
Luckily, Rwandan food is the bomb. I was chomping on little fried fish like French fries.
Now we're going to surrender to the crushing weight of 48 hours of travel, take full advantage of our beds, and get some much-needed shut-eye.
That may sound exciting, but really it was just exhausting. Minneapolis to Kigali took roughly 48 hours. We are inches shy of ODing on airport coffee and tray meals. Several of us almost fell face-first into dinner and slept at the restaurant.
That is a great thing about Kigali that I've discovered. For me, I'm all or nothing when it comes to my taste in food. I love Japanese cuisine but can't do Chinese. Authentic Mexican food hates me, but poorly-imitated American Mexican food is fine, and Italian food is even better. So going in, I knew that I was either going to have three weeks of cuisine heaven or I'd be rationing whatever snacks that survived the airplanes.
Luckily, Rwandan food is the bomb. I was chomping on little fried fish like French fries.
Now we're going to surrender to the crushing weight of 48 hours of travel, take full advantage of our beds, and get some much-needed shut-eye.
Thursday
Muraho Rwanda!
In a few short hours we will meet at the MSP airport to embark on our trip to Rwanda. Fourteen amazing students, one incredible professor, and me.
I am reminded of the eve of my own college study abroad experience in 1997 before I left for the Global Semester. Mother Teresa had died and at the same time the press coverage was all consumed with the premature death of Princess Diana in a car accident. I remember feeling both exhilaration and trepidation. What had I gotten myself into? Was this going to be the life-changing experience I hoped it would be? Indeed it was an experience that would change my life forever: I became a globally-conscious citizen, better travel companion, thoughtful observer, and a person with an insatiable curiosity about the world.
Rwanda will be a new experience for all of us. I am thrilled to accompany this group of amazing individuals as we hear stories from people not so different from us, learn about the country's reconciliation efforts, explore unfamiliar places, and begin to understand a bit more about our shared humanity.
I am reminded of the eve of my own college study abroad experience in 1997 before I left for the Global Semester. Mother Teresa had died and at the same time the press coverage was all consumed with the premature death of Princess Diana in a car accident. I remember feeling both exhilaration and trepidation. What had I gotten myself into? Was this going to be the life-changing experience I hoped it would be? Indeed it was an experience that would change my life forever: I became a globally-conscious citizen, better travel companion, thoughtful observer, and a person with an insatiable curiosity about the world.
Rwanda will be a new experience for all of us. I am thrilled to accompany this group of amazing individuals as we hear stories from people not so different from us, learn about the country's reconciliation efforts, explore unfamiliar places, and begin to understand a bit more about our shared humanity.
Wednesday
Note to Self: Anti-Malarials Should Be Taken At Night When Dizziness is Allowed
What the title says.
We're going to be in Rwanda in two days, so I started anti-malarials today. I popped a pill right after class (so around noon) before taking what was supposed to be a one-hour nap before going to work.
When the alarm went off, I sat up to turn it off, and the floor tried to throw me out the window.
Oh, I do not have time for this, I thought, muttering curses that should not be repeated on a school blog. I had to cash a check at the bank, last-minute stuff to buy, a suitcase to pack, and, obviously, work: that thing that pays for food and rent.
Medication-induced dizziness is nothing new; it happened a lot when I first started taking anti-depressants. So I set the alarm for another fifteen minutes, figuring an elongated snooze was in order to screw my head on straight, and laid back down.
Fifteen minutes later, the bed deposited me on the floor when I tried to get up. Stupid bed.
If I had an office job, I would've soldiered through it. Dizziness is manageable when you're sitting down. Unfortunately (well, usually it's very fortunate, especially with this weather, but not today) I canvass for a living. That's door-to-door sales. That's walking out in the heat and sun for at least three hours straight.
I texted my supervisor, who is a saint, what was happening and hit the fifteen minute snooze one more time. It'd make me a few minutes late, but I'd be certain that I wouldn't collapse in a sweaty heap on some potential customer's porch. That's not a good sales technique.
No such luck. My brain was still swimming in a fish tank. So I called up my supervisor and told him that I was sparing him a potential lawsuit by taking a sick day. Lucky for me, I'm the favorite of the office (totally true, ask my boss), so I got the day off.
The dizziness only lasted a few hours, so I was able to do all the other pre-trip stuff I had to do. As I continue to take more my body will realize Oh, this is a good thing and we don't need to make the Boss's life miserable when she gives it to us, so this annoying side effect should taper off.
Until then, I'm taking the anti-malarials right before bed. Dizziness is only allowed when I'm asleep.
We're going to be in Rwanda in two days, so I started anti-malarials today. I popped a pill right after class (so around noon) before taking what was supposed to be a one-hour nap before going to work.
When the alarm went off, I sat up to turn it off, and the floor tried to throw me out the window.
Oh, I do not have time for this, I thought, muttering curses that should not be repeated on a school blog. I had to cash a check at the bank, last-minute stuff to buy, a suitcase to pack, and, obviously, work: that thing that pays for food and rent.
Medication-induced dizziness is nothing new; it happened a lot when I first started taking anti-depressants. So I set the alarm for another fifteen minutes, figuring an elongated snooze was in order to screw my head on straight, and laid back down.
Fifteen minutes later, the bed deposited me on the floor when I tried to get up. Stupid bed.
If I had an office job, I would've soldiered through it. Dizziness is manageable when you're sitting down. Unfortunately (well, usually it's very fortunate, especially with this weather, but not today) I canvass for a living. That's door-to-door sales. That's walking out in the heat and sun for at least three hours straight.
I texted my supervisor, who is a saint, what was happening and hit the fifteen minute snooze one more time. It'd make me a few minutes late, but I'd be certain that I wouldn't collapse in a sweaty heap on some potential customer's porch. That's not a good sales technique.
No such luck. My brain was still swimming in a fish tank. So I called up my supervisor and told him that I was sparing him a potential lawsuit by taking a sick day. Lucky for me, I'm the favorite of the office (totally true, ask my boss), so I got the day off.
The dizziness only lasted a few hours, so I was able to do all the other pre-trip stuff I had to do. As I continue to take more my body will realize Oh, this is a good thing and we don't need to make the Boss's life miserable when she gives it to us, so this annoying side effect should taper off.
Until then, I'm taking the anti-malarials right before bed. Dizziness is only allowed when I'm asleep.
Monday
Counting down the days!
Wow! We're getting ready to leave in just 3 days. As I look at the little box in my room, filled with my passport and necessary items for travel, I grow more excited. It's a surreal feeling, and I don't think it will feel real until I actually step onto the ground in Rwanda. Even after the classes we have had, and the books we have read, and my grandparents asking me to explain my trip every chance they get, I still find myself anxious and unsure of what to expect in these next few weeks (don't worry professor, you have prepared us as best as you can, but some things need to be experienced). I am interested to see how the the "Land of 1,000 Hills" compares to the "Land of 10,000 Lakes", because I'm sure the pictures don't do it justice. I am also eager to be a listening ear to the stories of Rwanda, and learn everything I can on this adventure.
Thursday
Looking Back...
In doing some of the final preparations for the course, I came across this interview conducted while I was in Rwanda in April 2014. Of course I'm somewhat biased, but I think it's a nice overview of what one might experience when visiting the Land of A Thousand Hills.
Sunday
Seven Weeks!
Yes! Hamline University is headed back to Rwanda! On 26 May, fourteen students, a staff colleague, and myself - the faculty leader - will depart, arriving in Kigali on 28 May. Seven weeks from today, 29 May, is our first full day in Rwanda. We will take a tour of the city, including the Presidential Palace, followed by lunch at Bourbon Coffee and - of course - a stop at Nakumatt in the Union Trade Centre. After lunch we'll visit the Belgian Troop Memorial and the Hotel des Mille Collines, known to some as "Hotel Rwanda." That evening we'll share a welcome dinner at Republika, followed by our second night at the Discover Rwanda Youth Hostel.
We've made a few changes to the itinerary this year. As well as a few different NGOs, as part of our recreational activities we've added a visit to Nyungwe National Forest for the canopy walk. What I hope is a real highlight is a day long student-created workshop with students at the Protestant Institute of Art and Social Sciences in Huye. Our students will present on youth involvement in the 1960s civil rights movement in the US. Rwandan students will present on youth involvement in post-genocide Rwanda. They'll also have plenty of time just to visit with one another, including sharing lunch and dinner. If we're lucky we'll also visit Inzozi Nziza for ice cream!
Another highlight of this year's course is this... In 2012 we visited Gashora Girls Academy. See what students had to say here and here. But, this time we'll be bringing Linda, a member of the first Gashora graduating class of 2013! She's now completing her sophomore year at Hamline, likely majoring in Economics and Global Studies. She'll not only be joining us in the course, but will also be serving as a peer leader. And, almost four years to the day, we'll again be visiting Gashora. Even though all of her friends have graduated, I imagine it will be quite a homecoming. Check out the posts from November 2013 to read more.
Internet access permitting, students will post each day we're in Rwanda. And, perhaps we'll post a bit just before we depart in May. Stay tuned!
Addendum: The post below was written on my last morning in Huye, in April 2014. That was the trip during which I met with my colleague at PIASS, Kazu Sasaki, and from which the workshop that will take place this year emerged. I should have posted a follow-up when I returned, but things have been, um, a little busy since then!
We've made a few changes to the itinerary this year. As well as a few different NGOs, as part of our recreational activities we've added a visit to Nyungwe National Forest for the canopy walk. What I hope is a real highlight is a day long student-created workshop with students at the Protestant Institute of Art and Social Sciences in Huye. Our students will present on youth involvement in the 1960s civil rights movement in the US. Rwandan students will present on youth involvement in post-genocide Rwanda. They'll also have plenty of time just to visit with one another, including sharing lunch and dinner. If we're lucky we'll also visit Inzozi Nziza for ice cream!
Another highlight of this year's course is this... In 2012 we visited Gashora Girls Academy. See what students had to say here and here. But, this time we'll be bringing Linda, a member of the first Gashora graduating class of 2013! She's now completing her sophomore year at Hamline, likely majoring in Economics and Global Studies. She'll not only be joining us in the course, but will also be serving as a peer leader. And, almost four years to the day, we'll again be visiting Gashora. Even though all of her friends have graduated, I imagine it will be quite a homecoming. Check out the posts from November 2013 to read more.
Internet access permitting, students will post each day we're in Rwanda. And, perhaps we'll post a bit just before we depart in May. Stay tuned!
Addendum: The post below was written on my last morning in Huye, in April 2014. That was the trip during which I met with my colleague at PIASS, Kazu Sasaki, and from which the workshop that will take place this year emerged. I should have posted a follow-up when I returned, but things have been, um, a little busy since then!
Saturday
Day 7
Well, I was right. I have a cold. This will be my whiny post, so feel free to skip it. I woke up during the night and felt absolutely horrible. The rest of the night was awake/doze/awake. I was 'dreaming' that because I haven't yet confirmed Monday's flight they gave my seat away. Then, at one point, I was awakened by this tremendous - I'm not sure how to describe it - 'growling' sound, but not from an animal. It was an engine of some kind. Eventually that stopped and what was surely the smoke from diesel fuel permeated the room. Next I heard the famous monkeys scrambling around on the roof. I've not seem them yet and wish I had, but I've heard about the racket they make. Then the rains began. I actually like the sound of rain on a metal roof, but not when I'm wishing I could go back to sleep. Eventually I got up and, presumably because my light was on, someone came to see about breakfast. I got my hot water for tea and three pieces of cold toast with the 'medium fat spread.' I then had my third cold 'bird bath' - one really can't call it a shower - of the trip. I haven't had hot water since Thursday morning. My arthritic left hand and my left shoulder are killing me, presumably from my pack which I just can't remember/get used to carrying on my right. I'm dressed and ready to go, but it will be about two and a half hours before Kazu is due to pick me up.
It's about two hours to Kigali. Oh, a note on that. As I was riding down on the bus I was thinking, this is like a roller coaster only it will last two hours - the time they say it takes to get to Huye - and only cost about $3.62. We made the trip in 1:50. I mentioned that to both Celestin and Kazu. Both were shocked, responding that he must have been going really fast. Uh, yup. Really fast, even when the big red signs said "DANGER" and warned of a maximum speed of 40 kmh, or about 25 mph.
So, when I get back to Kigali I'm hoping to get to the market, unless it's pouring. I've not yet picked up anything to bring back, except for some tea from Nakumatt. On to the day!
It's about two hours to Kigali. Oh, a note on that. As I was riding down on the bus I was thinking, this is like a roller coaster only it will last two hours - the time they say it takes to get to Huye - and only cost about $3.62. We made the trip in 1:50. I mentioned that to both Celestin and Kazu. Both were shocked, responding that he must have been going really fast. Uh, yup. Really fast, even when the big red signs said "DANGER" and warned of a maximum speed of 40 kmh, or about 25 mph.
So, when I get back to Kigali I'm hoping to get to the market, unless it's pouring. I've not yet picked up anything to bring back, except for some tea from Nakumatt. On to the day!
Day 6
Having no Internet, no companions, not being up for wandering Huye in the dark, and having read for a while, I turned in around 8 last night and awoke some time during the night to absolute silence. Not a cricket, not bird, not a car, not a footstep. Not a rustle of leaves or a drip of water. It was really eerie in that I really didn't hear a thing, not even the buzz of a mosquito. I went back to sleep and when I awakened around 5-something birds were starting to chirp.
There's a bit of a language barrier here at the hotel and though pulling French from the recesses of my brain has been helpful in some instances, not so much in others. From the reading I had done before traveling, I knew that the breakfast consisted of coffee or tea and toast w/ jam, but that you could, allegedly, order eggs and pay separately for them. One of the things I've noticed is a tendency to convey understanding only to find out that there was no understanding at all. So, gluten insensitivity be damned, my breakfast consisted of tea and three slices of toast with what is labeled "medium fat spread," a type of margarine I presume. Honestly, the jam - in what was formerly a mayonnaise jar - looked a tad questionable. When something is unidentifiable, I consider it questionable. So, I stuck with the stuff that while no doubt bad for my arteries, had an identifiable provenance.
1:00 pm
Later this morning I met with, Celestin, a faculty member from PIASS. Also a Presbyterian pastor, he just completed his masters degree in peace and conflict studies. He has moved from what was - I'm unsure if it still is - a Faculty of Theology to the Department of Peace and Conflict Studies. He is originally from (the former) Gitarama. Though we didn't discuss it, I know this to be one of the areas often mentioned in writings on the 1994 genocide and, I believe, an area then controlled by the Hutu and the location of some of the key figures in leadership. We had a nice, albeit somewhat difficult, chat about students, tuition, academic calendars, etc. I say difficult not because of content, but accent. The official language of instruction changed from French to English sometime around 2008 and 2009, so most adults who completed secondary school before that time are fluent in Kinyarwanda and French, but not English. As students who go on to university speak Kinyarwanda, English, and French to varying degrees, their instructors are, in some instances, playing catch up on the English. But, as I like to point out when people apologize for their English, it's light years better than my Kinyarwanda!
When Celestin and I parted ways I went around the corner to the Hotel Ibis to see about lunch. Let me say for the record that I just had the best chicken I've had in four visits to Rwanda. I'm not enough of a cook to even know how to describe how it was cooked - braised, perhaps? But, it was not only amazingly tender - a rarity here, but had the best flavor. And, I had the good sense to order rice. Hard to believe, but even I am tired of French Fries. Even the vegetables, while reminiscent of the mixed vegetables of my elementary school cafeteria, were tasty. Clearly I was hungry! I sat on the patio while the world, or a good part of Huye, passed by. I returned just minutes ago, got out my iPad, sat down and, as I type this it is raining. So far my timing with regard to the rain has been very good.
I paused for a moment to read what I've typed and now the sun is shining. The sky is a mix of blue with puffy, white clouds and stretches of more ominous gray. But, I've no place I have to be, so I'm content to sit here on the patio until my 3:00 meeting.
8:30 pm
It's time to turn in - ack - I'm getting a cold and am not feeling so great, but I had an absolutely wonderful visit with Kazu, chair of the Peace and Conflict Studies program at PIASS. I don't want to share much of it here as it's his research, but know that I learned all kinds of things that in more 'formal' visits I did/would not. Feel free to ask me about it! It made the trip to Huye so very worthwhile. And, as an added bonus he and his wife are going to Kigali tomorrow and he offered me a ride. Fab!
There's a bit of a language barrier here at the hotel and though pulling French from the recesses of my brain has been helpful in some instances, not so much in others. From the reading I had done before traveling, I knew that the breakfast consisted of coffee or tea and toast w/ jam, but that you could, allegedly, order eggs and pay separately for them. One of the things I've noticed is a tendency to convey understanding only to find out that there was no understanding at all. So, gluten insensitivity be damned, my breakfast consisted of tea and three slices of toast with what is labeled "medium fat spread," a type of margarine I presume. Honestly, the jam - in what was formerly a mayonnaise jar - looked a tad questionable. When something is unidentifiable, I consider it questionable. So, I stuck with the stuff that while no doubt bad for my arteries, had an identifiable provenance.
1:00 pm
Later this morning I met with, Celestin, a faculty member from PIASS. Also a Presbyterian pastor, he just completed his masters degree in peace and conflict studies. He has moved from what was - I'm unsure if it still is - a Faculty of Theology to the Department of Peace and Conflict Studies. He is originally from (the former) Gitarama. Though we didn't discuss it, I know this to be one of the areas often mentioned in writings on the 1994 genocide and, I believe, an area then controlled by the Hutu and the location of some of the key figures in leadership. We had a nice, albeit somewhat difficult, chat about students, tuition, academic calendars, etc. I say difficult not because of content, but accent. The official language of instruction changed from French to English sometime around 2008 and 2009, so most adults who completed secondary school before that time are fluent in Kinyarwanda and French, but not English. As students who go on to university speak Kinyarwanda, English, and French to varying degrees, their instructors are, in some instances, playing catch up on the English. But, as I like to point out when people apologize for their English, it's light years better than my Kinyarwanda!
When Celestin and I parted ways I went around the corner to the Hotel Ibis to see about lunch. Let me say for the record that I just had the best chicken I've had in four visits to Rwanda. I'm not enough of a cook to even know how to describe how it was cooked - braised, perhaps? But, it was not only amazingly tender - a rarity here, but had the best flavor. And, I had the good sense to order rice. Hard to believe, but even I am tired of French Fries. Even the vegetables, while reminiscent of the mixed vegetables of my elementary school cafeteria, were tasty. Clearly I was hungry! I sat on the patio while the world, or a good part of Huye, passed by. I returned just minutes ago, got out my iPad, sat down and, as I type this it is raining. So far my timing with regard to the rain has been very good.
I paused for a moment to read what I've typed and now the sun is shining. The sky is a mix of blue with puffy, white clouds and stretches of more ominous gray. But, I've no place I have to be, so I'm content to sit here on the patio until my 3:00 meeting.
8:30 pm
It's time to turn in - ack - I'm getting a cold and am not feeling so great, but I had an absolutely wonderful visit with Kazu, chair of the Peace and Conflict Studies program at PIASS. I don't want to share much of it here as it's his research, but know that I learned all kinds of things that in more 'formal' visits I did/would not. Feel free to ask me about it! It made the trip to Huye so very worthwhile. And, as an added bonus he and his wife are going to Kigali tomorrow and he offered me a ride. Fab!
Day 5
After a nice breakfast and coffee that was so smooth I could drink it without milk - a shock to anyone who has seen me drink coffee - Linda came to get me. We went to her dad's office where I was able to take a photo of the Kayonza flame of remembrance and say goodbye - and a huge murakoze cyane/thank you very much to her dad. His generosity was overwhelming! Linda then took me to the bus park and insured that I got on the right back back to Kigali. Another uneventful ride on a beautiful Rwandan morning. I've actually been very lucky with the weather!
I was, I admit, a tad nervous about navigating Nyabugogo on my own. Fidel had pointed out the Volcano Tours desk so once I was on my feet I made a beeline. Uvuga icyongereza? Do you speak English? A nice fellow - amidst chaos and confusion - ensured that I had my ticket and boarded the correct bus. I was very thankful as the young woman had sold me a ticket for the noon bus and it was 11:25. He asked if I minded taking the 11:30 bus. Um, no. Did I look like someone who wanted to stand around in Nyabugogo for 35 minutes? I was soon on the bus and on my way.
After a while the fellow seated next to me asked if I was going to Huye. Jean Claude asked a bit about how long I had been in Rwanda, etc. Then, hearing I was a professor, he showed me, with - I think - a bit of pride, his provisional certificate for award of a Bachelor of Education. He is now teaching English and French at a secondary school somewhere between Huye and the Burundi border, which is only abou 25 km away from Huye.
As we approached Huye he asked if I knew the town, needed a guide, etc. I assured him that I knew where I was headed and we said our goodbyes. Bon voyage, Jean Claude!
I walked the 200 meters or so to the Motel du Mont Huye. Not surprisingly, the young woman couldn't find my reservation. My multiple names often lead to confusion, even when there is no language barrier. Eventually, all was well and I was taken to my room, chambre 1, to get settled.
One of the things about Rwanda that is a particularly good exercise for me is that one always has to expect the unexpected and be prepared for things to not go as well as one hopes. Well, after over three hours on a bus, one likes to find a working toilet. And, if not, it's nice to be able to communicate about the issue with those who can help. I have to say, to my high school French teachers, thank you! More than once on this trip, my very limited French has come in quite handy. My toilet is now functioning.
But, let me back up. As I was walking to my room, a young woman on another patio waved, saying "Hello" in English. She looked settled in, like she'd been here a while. After discovering the toilet issue I went back to ask if there was some trick I needed to know. On that front, no, there wasn't. But, turns out she's with a group of Canadian nursing students that come here for four weeks to volunteer at the hospital. And, they're not just Canadian, they're from Nova Scotia. And, she's from Moncton, a city a couple of hours from Fredericton, where I've been living. We had a nice chat and I met her colleague - and then went off to find toilet assistance.
After getting settled - which doesn't take long when you've only a small backpack - I broke down and used my iPhone to access email. Pathetic, I know. Then I ventured to the restaurant, did some reading, and returned to write.
The clouds, as I typed the above, seem to have dissipated a bit. It's getting dark. We're just below the equator, you know. The mosquitoes may soon be swarming so I think I'll head inside.
Tomorrow I am schedule to meet with two faculty members from PIASS, the Protestant Institute of Arts and Social Sciences. That will likely fill my day. I've decided to return to Kigali on Saturday instead of Sunday as there is more that I'd like to do there than there is here. I may make it to the Kimironko market after all.
As I wrap this up I hear what sounds like live singing, from the cathedral perhaps. I hear the nurses visiting. People have been strolling by, "Hello," "Goodbye," "Bonjour," a wave... A room here goes for 10,000 RWF, or about $15.00 so it's popular with students, NGOs, etc. But, I don't think I'll have trouble sleeping. What I've written doesn't even begin to capture the ups, the downs, the stress, the joys... Sleep, I will!
I was, I admit, a tad nervous about navigating Nyabugogo on my own. Fidel had pointed out the Volcano Tours desk so once I was on my feet I made a beeline. Uvuga icyongereza? Do you speak English? A nice fellow - amidst chaos and confusion - ensured that I had my ticket and boarded the correct bus. I was very thankful as the young woman had sold me a ticket for the noon bus and it was 11:25. He asked if I minded taking the 11:30 bus. Um, no. Did I look like someone who wanted to stand around in Nyabugogo for 35 minutes? I was soon on the bus and on my way.
After a while the fellow seated next to me asked if I was going to Huye. Jean Claude asked a bit about how long I had been in Rwanda, etc. Then, hearing I was a professor, he showed me, with - I think - a bit of pride, his provisional certificate for award of a Bachelor of Education. He is now teaching English and French at a secondary school somewhere between Huye and the Burundi border, which is only abou 25 km away from Huye.
As we approached Huye he asked if I knew the town, needed a guide, etc. I assured him that I knew where I was headed and we said our goodbyes. Bon voyage, Jean Claude!
I walked the 200 meters or so to the Motel du Mont Huye. Not surprisingly, the young woman couldn't find my reservation. My multiple names often lead to confusion, even when there is no language barrier. Eventually, all was well and I was taken to my room, chambre 1, to get settled.
One of the things about Rwanda that is a particularly good exercise for me is that one always has to expect the unexpected and be prepared for things to not go as well as one hopes. Well, after over three hours on a bus, one likes to find a working toilet. And, if not, it's nice to be able to communicate about the issue with those who can help. I have to say, to my high school French teachers, thank you! More than once on this trip, my very limited French has come in quite handy. My toilet is now functioning.
But, let me back up. As I was walking to my room, a young woman on another patio waved, saying "Hello" in English. She looked settled in, like she'd been here a while. After discovering the toilet issue I went back to ask if there was some trick I needed to know. On that front, no, there wasn't. But, turns out she's with a group of Canadian nursing students that come here for four weeks to volunteer at the hospital. And, they're not just Canadian, they're from Nova Scotia. And, she's from Moncton, a city a couple of hours from Fredericton, where I've been living. We had a nice chat and I met her colleague - and then went off to find toilet assistance.
After getting settled - which doesn't take long when you've only a small backpack - I broke down and used my iPhone to access email. Pathetic, I know. Then I ventured to the restaurant, did some reading, and returned to write.
The clouds, as I typed the above, seem to have dissipated a bit. It's getting dark. We're just below the equator, you know. The mosquitoes may soon be swarming so I think I'll head inside.
Tomorrow I am schedule to meet with two faculty members from PIASS, the Protestant Institute of Arts and Social Sciences. That will likely fill my day. I've decided to return to Kigali on Saturday instead of Sunday as there is more that I'd like to do there than there is here. I may make it to the Kimironko market after all.
As I wrap this up I hear what sounds like live singing, from the cathedral perhaps. I hear the nurses visiting. People have been strolling by, "Hello," "Goodbye," "Bonjour," a wave... A room here goes for 10,000 RWF, or about $15.00 so it's popular with students, NGOs, etc. But, I don't think I'll have trouble sleeping. What I've written doesn't even begin to capture the ups, the downs, the stress, the joys... Sleep, I will!
Day 4
As I write this, it's 5:30 on Thursday, Thought I can see blue sky and sun in the distance, threatening clouds are gathering overhead. This is Rwanda in April. I may be moving inside soon. The winds are picking up as well. Back to Wednesday...
Around 9 am I packed everything into my two bags, packing what would get me though four or five days into my "backpack" so that I could stash my "travel pack" at Heaven. Knowing that I would be taking public buses - think sardines - I couldn't imagine dealing with two bags. Fidel, the same driver who had escorted me to Nyamirambo, arrived to deliver me to the central bus station, Nyabugogo. Now, you know it's serious when even Rwandans comment on how dreadful, busy, noisy... it is. But, Fidel insured that I made it to the correct bus, got my ticket, and boarded. I was soon on my way to meet Kayonza to meet Linda, the student who will be attending Hamline in the fall.
The ride was uneventful. It was a beautiful, sunny morning. I was able to text Linda regarding my progress and knew that she would be waiting at the bus park for me. When we arrived and I disembarked, imagine my surprise to see a large, black Toyota Prado awaiting me. I had recognized Linda's dad standing next to it. Her parents, Linda, and I traveled to the hotel where they had made arrangements for me to stay and then left Linda and I to discuss everything from classes to what to expect in an airplane to how cold it is in Minnesota to what she should bring to what weekends on campus are like to how cold it is... We had lunch and continued to visit. We had a snack and continued to visit. Around 6 pm or so we were picked up and went to her dad's office so that we could use the Internet. We tried to catch Kari Richtsmeier via Skype, but that just wasn't to be. It was right around 9 pm when we went back to the hotel and her dad said, "Let's have supper," or words to that effect. We were still stuffed from our snack. I thought I might get away with nibbling on something when the plates started coming. Large, whole tilapia, quarter chickens, the requisite fries... We ate.
I got in bed some time shortly before 11 and was immediately asleep.
Around 9 am I packed everything into my two bags, packing what would get me though four or five days into my "backpack" so that I could stash my "travel pack" at Heaven. Knowing that I would be taking public buses - think sardines - I couldn't imagine dealing with two bags. Fidel, the same driver who had escorted me to Nyamirambo, arrived to deliver me to the central bus station, Nyabugogo. Now, you know it's serious when even Rwandans comment on how dreadful, busy, noisy... it is. But, Fidel insured that I made it to the correct bus, got my ticket, and boarded. I was soon on my way to meet Kayonza to meet Linda, the student who will be attending Hamline in the fall.
The ride was uneventful. It was a beautiful, sunny morning. I was able to text Linda regarding my progress and knew that she would be waiting at the bus park for me. When we arrived and I disembarked, imagine my surprise to see a large, black Toyota Prado awaiting me. I had recognized Linda's dad standing next to it. Her parents, Linda, and I traveled to the hotel where they had made arrangements for me to stay and then left Linda and I to discuss everything from classes to what to expect in an airplane to how cold it is in Minnesota to what she should bring to what weekends on campus are like to how cold it is... We had lunch and continued to visit. We had a snack and continued to visit. Around 6 pm or so we were picked up and went to her dad's office so that we could use the Internet. We tried to catch Kari Richtsmeier via Skype, but that just wasn't to be. It was right around 9 pm when we went back to the hotel and her dad said, "Let's have supper," or words to that effect. We were still stuffed from our snack. I thought I might get away with nibbling on something when the plates started coming. Large, whole tilapia, quarter chickens, the requisite fries... We ate.
I got in bed some time shortly before 11 and was immediately asleep.
Day 3
Back in Fredericton I had met with a woman who speaks Kinyarwanda to get some help learning a few more phrases than the, oh, three I already knew. Being raised abroad she and her family returned to Rwanda in 1990, only to have to leave in 1994. She's never been back, but she still speaks Kinyarwanda. She also has extended family who still live here. I offered that I would be happy to deliver anything small that she might wish to send to them. So, this morning, armed with the phone numbers of her aunts and with the help of the office staff at Heaven off I went to Nyamirambo, a particular neighborhood in Kigali. I met her aunt, saw the school at which she is headmistress, and delivered the goods. Fortunately I had the presence of mind to ask if I might take a photograph for my friend back in Fredericton! What I hadn't had was the presence of mind to remember that she had also sent a box of chocolates for me to deliver with the other gifts. When I returned to my room and went to get a bottle of water, there they sat, in the refrigerator. I was so disappointed. I couldn't travel back to Nyamirambo. I quickly fired off an email of profuse apology that has since been graciously accepted.
As soon as I walked back into the inn, the skies opened up and torrential rains were beating down on the metal roof making all kinds of noise. I was fairly certain that, as is often the case, they would not continue so I took care of a few things under a dry roof with plans to go out later. When the rain did stop, I went back to the UTC, picked up the paper, and had a couple of samosas at Bourbon Coffee, and then checked with the Volcano bus folks about my upcoming journey to Huye. I was going to be meeting the third of my language study friends soon.
At 2:30, Vincent found me waiting and we settled back down in Bourbon Coffee. I was shocked when he started presenting me with gifts. A while back he had asked that I send a photo. This didn't seem unreasonable as it's nice to have a visual of the person with whom one is communicating. Imagine my surprise when he presented me with a small plaque with my photo and reading, "Welcome to Rwanda Melissa" and a tinier, "From Vincent." He then gave me a small drum with Rwanda etched on the side and a woven plate, also reading "Rwanda." I had brought only us-Rwanda flag pins to give. But, I do think he genuinely liked it. Needless to say, I bought lunch!
From there I raced back to the hotel as I had an interview scheduled with CBC's Shift New Brunswick. I'll spare you the details of our getting connected, except to say that it involved dropped calls, no land line, and me sending an incorrect cell number. Fortunately the Skype-spirits were on our side and we ultimately spoke without interruption. As I type this I've not heard it as I couldn't stay up late enough to listen live and when I left the world of Internet access it the link hadn't yet been posted. I'm writing this without a connection and will post it when I'm back in Kigali.
When I finished, I found Tony sipping a Mutzig on the patio. I finally had my fish tacos and we spent a lovely evening talking about our respective days, less than progressive family members, and when we might each return to Rwanda.
As soon as I walked back into the inn, the skies opened up and torrential rains were beating down on the metal roof making all kinds of noise. I was fairly certain that, as is often the case, they would not continue so I took care of a few things under a dry roof with plans to go out later. When the rain did stop, I went back to the UTC, picked up the paper, and had a couple of samosas at Bourbon Coffee, and then checked with the Volcano bus folks about my upcoming journey to Huye. I was going to be meeting the third of my language study friends soon.
At 2:30, Vincent found me waiting and we settled back down in Bourbon Coffee. I was shocked when he started presenting me with gifts. A while back he had asked that I send a photo. This didn't seem unreasonable as it's nice to have a visual of the person with whom one is communicating. Imagine my surprise when he presented me with a small plaque with my photo and reading, "Welcome to Rwanda Melissa" and a tinier, "From Vincent." He then gave me a small drum with Rwanda etched on the side and a woven plate, also reading "Rwanda." I had brought only us-Rwanda flag pins to give. But, I do think he genuinely liked it. Needless to say, I bought lunch!
From there I raced back to the hotel as I had an interview scheduled with CBC's Shift New Brunswick. I'll spare you the details of our getting connected, except to say that it involved dropped calls, no land line, and me sending an incorrect cell number. Fortunately the Skype-spirits were on our side and we ultimately spoke without interruption. As I type this I've not heard it as I couldn't stay up late enough to listen live and when I left the world of Internet access it the link hadn't yet been posted. I'm writing this without a connection and will post it when I'm back in Kigali.
When I finished, I found Tony sipping a Mutzig on the patio. I finally had my fish tacos and we spent a lovely evening talking about our respective days, less than progressive family members, and when we might each return to Rwanda.
Day 2 - continued
I'm writing this on Thursday, from the porch of my room in Huye, formerly Butare. It's been a busy few days, let me try to recall...
When I met up with Tony and Jean Paul in the stadium, we found our way to seats on one end, just to the side of the Jumbotron. It was a beautiful morning, but soon the sun was frying us in our seats. We had started chatting with a young man who had arrived with a large group who found seats in front of us. His name was Regis. He had very good English and soon offered to sit with us and interpret some of what was happening. So, Regis joined us. He was wearing a long-sleeved grey dress shirt made of some sort of synthetic fabric and soon he, too, was broiling. After checking with one of the many uniformed personnel stationed throughout the stadium, Regis suggested we move to the seats that were to the right of the section reserved for dignitaries as there was a chance we could find shade. When we moved Tony wanted to sit a bit further down for better photo ops and we did though I think it's fair to say that he later regretted giving up the shade!
I can't begin to adequately describe the speeches, the "sketch," the singing. In short, it was likely something the likes of which I will never again experience. The Secretary General of the UN, Ban ki-Moon spoke, offering expressions of apology for the UN's failure to act. The president of Uganda - I refuse to dignify him by using a name - spoke, and went on for far too long. It was hard to hear anything he had to say about reconciliation knowing he would just as soon see my Ugandan GLBT brothers and sisters, and their allies, killed or locked away. Yes, it was very strange to be in a stadium in Rwanda hearing such a hateful man speak of reconciliation. The Chair of the African Union Commission, Nkosazana Dlamini-Zuma, spoke. Being from South Africa, a nation that has granted same-sex marriage, I found her words much more believable. There were others, including the testimony of a survivor, translated by Regis. Again I'm left thinking, "How do people go on?"
I think the part of the entire seven hours that was the most striking, sad, horrifying... were the people who were carried out of the stadium prostrate, screaming, flailing, crying out, overcome by grief. I'm told the the number of those requiring such assistance has been far fewer this year. One person told me that a number of years ago, half of all those in attendance would ultimately leave in tears or be carried out.
The last speaker was President Paul Kagame. I found his remarks a mix of inspirational and chastising. That he spoke one expression in French signified, to me, that he was speaking to the French, without saying so directly. The French refuse to acknowledge complicity in providing weapons to the Interahamwe, etc. and training those who, in 1994, acted against the Tutsi.
The event ended around two, with a short musical performance, including a song titled "Never Again." A young man and woman, perhaps around age 12, had key roles, indicating not just that 50% of the Rwandan population is under the age of 20, but that the future is quite literally in the hands of the nation's youth.
Tony, Jean Paul, and I offered our deep gratitude to Regis and left the stadium, hoping to find something to eat. As the day was an official day of mourning with everyone expected to participate, in some fashion, in remembrance, most places were closed. We did manage to find a Lebanese restaurant and were able to grab a bite. From there we went to the Walk to Remember, though we missed the first wave of marchers, led by the President. We walked from Parliament, which still shows damage from rounds fired in 1994, back to the stadium. Along the way we met up with Warren, a Canadian scholar that I also met via facebook, and the three of us walked the last half of the distance together. Tony and I had planned to attend the vigil that was going to take place in the stadium that evening, but we were toast, figuratively and literally, and decided to find Jean Paul and head back to our respective hotels.
Although I would liked to have seen the candlelight fill the stadium and the lighting of the large flame of remembrance, aside from being exhausted, a part of me felt that the evening should be a space for the Rwandans alone. The earlier event was intended for everyone, particularly dignitaries from around the globe - with which I am not to be confused - though I did have some misgivings about taking the seat that might have been filled by a Rwandan who had been turned away. In retrospect, having heard that the lines for searching/entry were even longer than those in the morning had been, I was glad we had packed it in.
When I met up with Tony and Jean Paul in the stadium, we found our way to seats on one end, just to the side of the Jumbotron. It was a beautiful morning, but soon the sun was frying us in our seats. We had started chatting with a young man who had arrived with a large group who found seats in front of us. His name was Regis. He had very good English and soon offered to sit with us and interpret some of what was happening. So, Regis joined us. He was wearing a long-sleeved grey dress shirt made of some sort of synthetic fabric and soon he, too, was broiling. After checking with one of the many uniformed personnel stationed throughout the stadium, Regis suggested we move to the seats that were to the right of the section reserved for dignitaries as there was a chance we could find shade. When we moved Tony wanted to sit a bit further down for better photo ops and we did though I think it's fair to say that he later regretted giving up the shade!
I can't begin to adequately describe the speeches, the "sketch," the singing. In short, it was likely something the likes of which I will never again experience. The Secretary General of the UN, Ban ki-Moon spoke, offering expressions of apology for the UN's failure to act. The president of Uganda - I refuse to dignify him by using a name - spoke, and went on for far too long. It was hard to hear anything he had to say about reconciliation knowing he would just as soon see my Ugandan GLBT brothers and sisters, and their allies, killed or locked away. Yes, it was very strange to be in a stadium in Rwanda hearing such a hateful man speak of reconciliation. The Chair of the African Union Commission, Nkosazana Dlamini-Zuma, spoke. Being from South Africa, a nation that has granted same-sex marriage, I found her words much more believable. There were others, including the testimony of a survivor, translated by Regis. Again I'm left thinking, "How do people go on?"
I think the part of the entire seven hours that was the most striking, sad, horrifying... were the people who were carried out of the stadium prostrate, screaming, flailing, crying out, overcome by grief. I'm told the the number of those requiring such assistance has been far fewer this year. One person told me that a number of years ago, half of all those in attendance would ultimately leave in tears or be carried out.
The last speaker was President Paul Kagame. I found his remarks a mix of inspirational and chastising. That he spoke one expression in French signified, to me, that he was speaking to the French, without saying so directly. The French refuse to acknowledge complicity in providing weapons to the Interahamwe, etc. and training those who, in 1994, acted against the Tutsi.
The event ended around two, with a short musical performance, including a song titled "Never Again." A young man and woman, perhaps around age 12, had key roles, indicating not just that 50% of the Rwandan population is under the age of 20, but that the future is quite literally in the hands of the nation's youth.
Tony, Jean Paul, and I offered our deep gratitude to Regis and left the stadium, hoping to find something to eat. As the day was an official day of mourning with everyone expected to participate, in some fashion, in remembrance, most places were closed. We did manage to find a Lebanese restaurant and were able to grab a bite. From there we went to the Walk to Remember, though we missed the first wave of marchers, led by the President. We walked from Parliament, which still shows damage from rounds fired in 1994, back to the stadium. Along the way we met up with Warren, a Canadian scholar that I also met via facebook, and the three of us walked the last half of the distance together. Tony and I had planned to attend the vigil that was going to take place in the stadium that evening, but we were toast, figuratively and literally, and decided to find Jean Paul and head back to our respective hotels.
Although I would liked to have seen the candlelight fill the stadium and the lighting of the large flame of remembrance, aside from being exhausted, a part of me felt that the evening should be a space for the Rwandans alone. The earlier event was intended for everyone, particularly dignitaries from around the globe - with which I am not to be confused - though I did have some misgivings about taking the seat that might have been filled by a Rwandan who had been turned away. In retrospect, having heard that the lines for searching/entry were even longer than those in the morning had been, I was glad we had packed it in.
Tuesday
Day 2
I'm actually writing this on Day 3 as last night all I could manage was a facebook post.
I awakened at 5:45 am. Fortunately I had the presence of mind, on Sunday night, to ask what I might take for breakfast, knowing that nobody would be in the kitchen at that hour. They gave me a bowl of granola, a bowl of fruit, and a yogurt to keep inmy fridge. Good thing as it was going to be a long day.
I went out to the gate at 6:45 and Tony, my new friend from the UK, and his driver for the day, Jean Paul, had just pulled up. Off we went and in a few minutes we were at Amahoro Stadium. We had to get in separate lines as there were hands-on searches being conducted by members of the Republican Guard. My line didn't seem to move at all, but soon I could see Tony and Jean Paul waiting on the steps, on the other side of the gate.
Other lines were formed, men moved past us, and there we stood. Then, a woman came up, spoke to the woman behind me in Kinyarwanda, stepped in front of me, smiled, and said mwaramutse (good morning). I wasn't about to argue, we'd get in soon enough. A little while later, same thing, minus the mwaramutse, but a young girl. "Okay," I thought, "I'm the mizungu (foreigner/white), it's your event." We inched our way forward. The soldier was letting five people line up in front of the soldier doing the searches, followed by a break of about six feet and then the rest of the line, eventually with me in front. At one point, as the five became four then three, a group of five or six women ran up and got in the "front" line, ahead of me. Now I was annoyed. I'm used to hearing kids hollering "Mizungu, mizungu" as a bus load of white people drives by. But, to feel - rightly or not - that people were cutting in front of me because I was Mizungu and they thought I'd do nothing was annoying. Now, to be fair, I did see other women cut the line. But, they were promptly called out for it. This time, with the rush of women, and not caring if they actually understood me, I said, gesturing to my face, "Oh, right, Muzungu, so you can just cut ahead of me." They all started smiling and furiously gesturing... for me to join them! I did not as they were already a larger number than the guards were permitting. I smiled back and waved "No." At about the same time a Republican Guard who I think knew what had transpired gestured for me to move to the front of the line next to us. It was not yet 8:00, I'd already had an interesting day, and we weren't even inside the stadium yet!
I awakened at 5:45 am. Fortunately I had the presence of mind, on Sunday night, to ask what I might take for breakfast, knowing that nobody would be in the kitchen at that hour. They gave me a bowl of granola, a bowl of fruit, and a yogurt to keep inmy fridge. Good thing as it was going to be a long day.
I went out to the gate at 6:45 and Tony, my new friend from the UK, and his driver for the day, Jean Paul, had just pulled up. Off we went and in a few minutes we were at Amahoro Stadium. We had to get in separate lines as there were hands-on searches being conducted by members of the Republican Guard. My line didn't seem to move at all, but soon I could see Tony and Jean Paul waiting on the steps, on the other side of the gate.
Other lines were formed, men moved past us, and there we stood. Then, a woman came up, spoke to the woman behind me in Kinyarwanda, stepped in front of me, smiled, and said mwaramutse (good morning). I wasn't about to argue, we'd get in soon enough. A little while later, same thing, minus the mwaramutse, but a young girl. "Okay," I thought, "I'm the mizungu (foreigner/white), it's your event." We inched our way forward. The soldier was letting five people line up in front of the soldier doing the searches, followed by a break of about six feet and then the rest of the line, eventually with me in front. At one point, as the five became four then three, a group of five or six women ran up and got in the "front" line, ahead of me. Now I was annoyed. I'm used to hearing kids hollering "Mizungu, mizungu" as a bus load of white people drives by. But, to feel - rightly or not - that people were cutting in front of me because I was Mizungu and they thought I'd do nothing was annoying. Now, to be fair, I did see other women cut the line. But, they were promptly called out for it. This time, with the rush of women, and not caring if they actually understood me, I said, gesturing to my face, "Oh, right, Muzungu, so you can just cut ahead of me." They all started smiling and furiously gesturing... for me to join them! I did not as they were already a larger number than the guards were permitting. I smiled back and waved "No." At about the same time a Republican Guard who I think knew what had transpired gestured for me to move to the front of the line next to us. It was not yet 8:00, I'd already had an interesting day, and we weren't even inside the stadium yet!
Sunday
Day 1
First, a note. This blog was begun to document the travels of Hamline folks to Rwanda, and that it has. The emphasis was on what we were experiencing, learning, etc. This trip, I'm on my own. Rather then try to post in two places, one in a personal blog and about my days, generally, and another here and more limited to my experiences as a faculty member, I'm going to post only in one place, here. So, pardon the comments that may be a bit more in the realm of "what I had for breakfast..."
This morning was a beautiful day in Kigali. I began by reading some news regarding Rwanda and the commemorative events while waiting for brunch. And, speaking of 'breakfast,' I had a nice Heaven omelette with Gouda, avocado, and tomatoes along with home fries, hold the toast. I then headed over to the Union Trade Center where I was able to exchange some cash - and at a slightly better rate than in November and get a cell phone so that I could more readily be in touch with my contacts here.
Then, I visited with a young Rwandan woman, M, who recently completed her undergraduate degree and is working for a bank. We had 'met' via an online language learning site. It looked like the skies were going to open up - it's the rainy season here - so I encouraged her to grab the bus while she could still do so without becoming soaked. I stayed at picked up a few things at the Nakumatt. While doing so, it poured. By the time I was done, it had stopped and all that was left were gutters running like rivers. I walked back to the inn and soon the phone rang. It was another person, D, I had 'met' via the language site wanting to meet at the UTC. So, back I went. We, too, had a great visit, though I have to say that Rwandan tendency to be soft-spoken, an accent, and my bad hearing made both conversations quite a lot of 'work,' though absolutely worth it. I had brought US-Rwanda crossed flag pins with me to give folks as a little token. D was quite tickled with it but, unfortunately, I forgot to give M hers. Insert sad face here.
I had dinner with Tony, a guy I 'met' - yes, all this 'meeting' - through a facebook page about the 20th anniversary of the genocide. He's a British fellow who was so taken with his reading of Romeo Dallaire's 'Shake Hands with the Devil' that he decided he had to come to Rwanda. We had a terrific conversation about his experiences thus far, President Kagame, books, traveling, family, and so on. Tomorrow at 7 am we're going to head over to the commemorative event at the stadium, followed by the Walk to Remember.
I really should have posted about my journey to Rwanda first, but it already seems in the distant past. A recap? Left New Brunswick for Boston - in the snow - at 9 am Thursday - that's 2 pm Kigali time; Bangor Savings wouldn't change my $20s into $100s because I wasn't a customer, but Bangor Federal Credit Union came to my rescue; almost had a fender bender in a parking lot; first flight was delayed... but my layover was long enough that it didn't matter. Ended up with an open seat next to me on the first flight. Yay. Walking through the Detroit airport the sole of one of my Tevas peeled off in one piece. not kidding. Had an interesting elderly woman as a seat companion on the flight to Amsterdam. Three cheers for Yotel Amsterdam where I was able to shower. Saw a Kigali-bound Oklahoma woman with big hair that turned out to not be hers get seriously body searched - I'm talking real breast pinching - until she demanded the search be completed elsewhere. She was so not happy. Watched 'Out of the Furnace' and 'Gravity' on the flight to Kigali. We landed at 7:15 pm. When, at landing, they switched on the Muzak it was Pharrell's 'Happy.' Perfect! Being just south of the equator, it's dark at that hour. While waiting - and waiting and waiting - for my bag, the power went out. Just briefly, but enough to be freaky. Got the hotel and collapsed. So, including the travels to Boston, I'd call it about 54 hours door-to-door. But, I'm here and I had a good day. Tomorrow will, I'm sure, have a very different feel, but I'm sure it will be no less interesting. G' night!
This morning was a beautiful day in Kigali. I began by reading some news regarding Rwanda and the commemorative events while waiting for brunch. And, speaking of 'breakfast,' I had a nice Heaven omelette with Gouda, avocado, and tomatoes along with home fries, hold the toast. I then headed over to the Union Trade Center where I was able to exchange some cash - and at a slightly better rate than in November and get a cell phone so that I could more readily be in touch with my contacts here.
Then, I visited with a young Rwandan woman, M, who recently completed her undergraduate degree and is working for a bank. We had 'met' via an online language learning site. It looked like the skies were going to open up - it's the rainy season here - so I encouraged her to grab the bus while she could still do so without becoming soaked. I stayed at picked up a few things at the Nakumatt. While doing so, it poured. By the time I was done, it had stopped and all that was left were gutters running like rivers. I walked back to the inn and soon the phone rang. It was another person, D, I had 'met' via the language site wanting to meet at the UTC. So, back I went. We, too, had a great visit, though I have to say that Rwandan tendency to be soft-spoken, an accent, and my bad hearing made both conversations quite a lot of 'work,' though absolutely worth it. I had brought US-Rwanda crossed flag pins with me to give folks as a little token. D was quite tickled with it but, unfortunately, I forgot to give M hers. Insert sad face here.
I had dinner with Tony, a guy I 'met' - yes, all this 'meeting' - through a facebook page about the 20th anniversary of the genocide. He's a British fellow who was so taken with his reading of Romeo Dallaire's 'Shake Hands with the Devil' that he decided he had to come to Rwanda. We had a terrific conversation about his experiences thus far, President Kagame, books, traveling, family, and so on. Tomorrow at 7 am we're going to head over to the commemorative event at the stadium, followed by the Walk to Remember.
I really should have posted about my journey to Rwanda first, but it already seems in the distant past. A recap? Left New Brunswick for Boston - in the snow - at 9 am Thursday - that's 2 pm Kigali time; Bangor Savings wouldn't change my $20s into $100s because I wasn't a customer, but Bangor Federal Credit Union came to my rescue; almost had a fender bender in a parking lot; first flight was delayed... but my layover was long enough that it didn't matter. Ended up with an open seat next to me on the first flight. Yay. Walking through the Detroit airport the sole of one of my Tevas peeled off in one piece. not kidding. Had an interesting elderly woman as a seat companion on the flight to Amsterdam. Three cheers for Yotel Amsterdam where I was able to shower. Saw a Kigali-bound Oklahoma woman with big hair that turned out to not be hers get seriously body searched - I'm talking real breast pinching - until she demanded the search be completed elsewhere. She was so not happy. Watched 'Out of the Furnace' and 'Gravity' on the flight to Kigali. We landed at 7:15 pm. When, at landing, they switched on the Muzak it was Pharrell's 'Happy.' Perfect! Being just south of the equator, it's dark at that hour. While waiting - and waiting and waiting - for my bag, the power went out. Just briefly, but enough to be freaky. Got the hotel and collapsed. So, including the travels to Boston, I'd call it about 54 hours door-to-door. But, I'm here and I had a good day. Tomorrow will, I'm sure, have a very different feel, but I'm sure it will be no less interesting. G' night!
Monday
Heaven, etc.
Well, I never did get to making that additional post about Heaven. So, as I prepare to leave for Rwanda, there's no time like the present, eh? Really, the best way to learn about Heaven is to read the book. It's a wonderful account of Josh and Alissa Ruxin's experience traveling to Rwanda, getting settled, and - ultimately - founding Heaven.
As their website notes, "Heaven is more than a restaurant & inn, it's a social enterprise. Heaven is helping Rwanda develop its most important resource: it's people. Prosperity creation is one of Rwanda's many challenges..."
I had wonderful banana chips and guacamole, followed by my current addiction - terrific fish tacos. We sat on the beautiful patio, looking out at the lights of Kigali. You can't see the lights here - check out their website for that - but you get the idea.
In planning my fourth visit to Rwanda, but my first without a guide, I decided to splurge and spend my time in Kigali at Heaven, the inn. I've worked with Alissa and Caleb, their office manager, to iron out the many details and they have been tremendously helpful. I'll be able to walk to the UTC if I wish - Bourbon Coffee, Nakumatt, and MTN and I'm familiar with other restaurants in the area. So, all in all I think this will be perfect. I arrive on the 5th!
I will spend the first three days in Kigali, meeting with a few folks - details in other posts, I hope - and participate in the Walk to Remember as the official period of mourning begins. From there I am planning on traveling to Kayonza, in the Eastern Province, to meet with the Gashora student who will matriculate at Hamline next fall. After a day there, I am expecting to travel down to Huye where I will again meet with people in that area. I'm not posting a lot of details since things have a tendency to, um, evolve over the course of one's travels. But, after three nights in Huye, I'll return to Kigali, spend the night, and fly out the next day, returning to the US on the 15th.
As the availability of Internet permits, I will post about my experiences. Stay tuned and thanks for checking in!
As their website notes, "Heaven is more than a restaurant & inn, it's a social enterprise. Heaven is helping Rwanda develop its most important resource: it's people. Prosperity creation is one of Rwanda's many challenges..."
I had wonderful banana chips and guacamole, followed by my current addiction - terrific fish tacos. We sat on the beautiful patio, looking out at the lights of Kigali. You can't see the lights here - check out their website for that - but you get the idea.
In planning my fourth visit to Rwanda, but my first without a guide, I decided to splurge and spend my time in Kigali at Heaven, the inn. I've worked with Alissa and Caleb, their office manager, to iron out the many details and they have been tremendously helpful. I'll be able to walk to the UTC if I wish - Bourbon Coffee, Nakumatt, and MTN and I'm familiar with other restaurants in the area. So, all in all I think this will be perfect. I arrive on the 5th!
I will spend the first three days in Kigali, meeting with a few folks - details in other posts, I hope - and participate in the Walk to Remember as the official period of mourning begins. From there I am planning on traveling to Kayonza, in the Eastern Province, to meet with the Gashora student who will matriculate at Hamline next fall. After a day there, I am expecting to travel down to Huye where I will again meet with people in that area. I'm not posting a lot of details since things have a tendency to, um, evolve over the course of one's travels. But, after three nights in Huye, I'll return to Kigali, spend the night, and fly out the next day, returning to the US on the 15th.
As the availability of Internet permits, I will post about my experiences. Stay tuned and thanks for checking in!
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