and always the same...

July 11, 2007 (written by Aimee and Kevin)

We’re in Kigali and feel culture shocked. Rwanda is much more developed than Uganda. It’s almost hard to believe that the two countries could be side by side. (then again, I think of the United States and Mexico.) We spent the day taking care of business (getting money exchanged, picking up our gorilla permits, etc.), and then spent the afternoon at the genocide museum learning about the horror that took place here only thirteen years ago. At that time, the tension between the two groups of people here (artificially created in the early 20th c. by the Belgian colonial government), the Hutus and the Tutsis, exploded and resulted in the death of over a million Tutsis and moderate or sympathetic Hutus in just over three months. It puts it into horrifying perspective to think that a sixth of the number of people who died in the Holocaust were killed here in just one twenty-fourth of the time…

We were with a guide, Dietier. He lost both parents during the genocide. He and his younger sister were taken into a friends house and hidden for two months. As we approached the museum – at the top of a hill overlooking a slum and the fancy, upscale city center, the latter above the former on the opposite hill – we were surprised that there was a huge line of cars and hundreds of people on foot approaching the museum. Dietier told us that the market had been closed on this day to allow the local merchants to visit the memorial. It was really something to be at the museum with these people, the survivors of the genocide, as they gathered to mourn and to remember. As we entered the gates, the mass of people weren’t going inside the museum but were instead heading down a set of stairs outside. Our guide told us that we should try to go inside first because the others would be coming in after a ceremony in the rose garden. It was very nice because we had the museum to ourselves and were able to go slowly through each section. Our hearts sank as we walked with Dietier through each room learning about the history that lead up to the genocide. Dietier explained (in French, one of the two national languages along with Kinyarwanda) about the sometimes difficult-to-understand political and cultural subtleties that led up to the genocide. We read accounts from the locals and watched many explicitly violent and heartbreaking videos of the violence that occurred during that spring and summer of 1994 (as America was transfixed by O.J. and his white Bronco). Everything in this memorial was absolutely horrifying, but a few things stand out: The women who were brutally raped and purposively infected with HIV so that their deaths would be long and painful; the tiny children (as young as a few months old) who were brutally beaten and tortured before they were killed; the fact that neighbors or family members turned on friends and relatives in what was, literally, an instant (the signal for the violence to begin was the explosion of an airplane carrying the presidents of Rwanda and Burundi); and perhaps worst of all, the fact that the West could have completely prevented this had it cared to. Our government and the U.N. had the information and intelligence to know what was happening. It is said that as little as 5,000 U.N. troops could have prevented the deaths of a million innocent lives. Not only did the French government supply the killers with 12 million dollars worth of arms, but Kofi Annan and Bill Clinton (and the rest of the world) sat idly by, knowing full well what was happening, and did nothing. Once again, the world watches as Africans die because it is too complicated or too local or too expensive; the problem is too big… But to be here and to see and meet and talk with these beautiful people (whether here or in Uganda) is to see and know them as fellow human beings, as brothers and sisters who care about and love their children, who are struggling for work and money; who worship like us, who laugh like us, who live – with the obvious exception of the unbelievable luxuries we take for granted – just like us. It is all we can do to hold back tears – really – almost every day we’re on this continent…

In one of the books we’re reading it states that 99.9% of the people of Rwanda witnessed extreme violence and killing during those 100 days. It is eerie to walk the residential streets of Rwanda and picture the scenes of a bloody genocide. We are just down the road from Hotel des Milles-Colline (made famous through the film, Hotel Rwanda), where people ran for refuge in hopes of saving their lives. One of the last rooms at the museum contained a pictorial overview of all the genocides that occurred in the twentieth century, from Armenia to Rwanda to Darfur.

What on Earth is this creature called “man”? We, who pride ourselves on our technologies and cultures and civility? We, who can travel to space and to the depths of the seas? We, the only animal to conceive of divinity and meaning, to have the ability to reflect on our own consciousness? And this? Genocide?? The attempted destruction of entire peoples based on superficial differences like color or religion or, in this case, tribe? And it keeps happening. It is happening right now. What in the f-ck are we doing here?!?!? Different eras, cultures, religions and ethnicities. And always the same…

On the drive back to our hotel, we spoke to Dietier about the process of reconciliation. What is incredible about Rwanda is that just 13 years after this genocide, there is almost complete recovery. Of course, the country has not had the resources to try to address the psychological wounds that abound in (literally) every psyche here. But the young (45 years old) leader here, Paul Kagame (a Tutsi who, from everything we’ve read and heard about him, seems loved, respected, energetic and, amazingly for sub-Saharan Africa, untainted by major scandal or corruption) and his government have implemented a sweeping reconciliation program through which the Hutus have been almost universally forgiven by the families of their victims (thousands upon thousands of Hutus are now standing or awaiting trial for their crimes; many others were able to flee). Dietier told us that in order for people to move on they must forgive. He shared with us that the man who killed his parents came to him later to ask for forgiveness. It’s unbelievable to walk the streets here and feel safe, to feel that there is a lack of tension in the air. The people are different here than in Uganda. No hearty greetings. No big smiles. They eye us as we walk by. There is a seriousness in their faces. There is no hostility toward us, just something more (perhaps understandably) reserved in their demeanor. The city center is well-developed and thriving. Investment is working. In just 13 years, this country has roared back to something resembling normalcy. Of course there is disparity. Of course the government has critics. Of course too many people beg on the streets and go to bed hungry. But considering the fact that more than about a sixth of the population was brutally murdered just over a decade ago, the state of affairs must be seen as a powerful statement to the will, determination, and capacity of these people to forgive and to love. It is awe-inspiring to us in the same way that the Acholi people are able to laugh and to love so easily so soon after they watched two generations of their people wiped out. How to fathom the duality of mankind – the great capacity to kill and the greater capacity to live? It is a fascinating planet, no?

Photo 1: Us on the Bus to Kigali
Photo 2: Welcome to Rwanda
Photo 3: Hotel des Milles-Colline