Rwanda

My final days in Rwanda were markedly less traumatic than the first ones. Maybe my brain was shutting down… or I was finding it easier to see hopeful signs of a future rather than the burdens of the past. I have heard that some people are afraid that I will be forever marred by my experience in Rwanda – I hope so. It is not a place that I went to thinking that I would be unaffected. I went hoping to push myself to see the evil that exists in our world and within each of us. The majority of the Rwandans who massacred their fellow humans are not fundamentally different from “us.” Thinking that “we” could never do something so horrendous seems to deny the basic principle that everyone on this planet is human -- we are the same. It is just as likely to spiral into violence as it is to care deeply for one another. I am not sure what turns the tide – why the Rwandan genocide happened – but I am sure that we are capable in equal measure. The sense that we are capable of such evil is revolting but also enlightening – how do we make choices to do good or to do evil? How do we decide what counts as good or evil? Who gets to decide?

This ground swelling of questions about my core self and the core selves of others was exhausting. We headed to Western Rwanda to Lake Kivu. Kibuye, the town where we stayed, is in the region where the highest number of Tutsis was killed. For those of you who have read The Bone Woman, this is the location of the church she writes about. The ride out to Kibuye took three hours of climbing mountain-like passes, complete with blind corners and hairpin turns – on which the driver often went to the wrong side of the road. On the way down the mountain, he would build speed to save gas. I literally prayed the entire way. Once in Kibuye, we headed to a Methodist retreat center and all slept for the entire afternoon, had dinner, and then slept for ten hours.

The next morning, we went to the two memorials in the town where 10,000 people were burned to death and the church where 11,400 people were killed in one day – by hand. You would think that these places would be more overwhelming than Ntarama – more people were killed. However, it was strangely underwhelming. The place where the 10,000 people were killed is in the town center, with a football (soccer) field on one side and a church/school on the other. Children were playing in the grassy area within the brick confines of the cemetery. It felt so full of life; it is healing to have a generation which has no memory of the atrocities claim the land as its own. The second memorial – the Catholic Church – made me feel something unnamed and unfamiliar. The church is still functioning and quite striking inside. Directly outside, the government built a memorial, complete with exposed bones, to remind the parishioners of the evil that occurred there. The distasteful part to me was that the church is still functioning – it seems wrong. How could a church continue to provide for a community? Or, better yet – what is the church providing there?

On the way back to Kigali (as with the trip there), I was struck by the number of memorials. Every 20 miles or so, there is another genocide memorial. Occasionally, we would drive by people dressed in their Sunday-best, sitting around on a hillside. These were (and are) the famous “Gacaca” (Ga – cha- cha) trials, known as “Justice on the Grass.” Rather than the Nuremberg trial-type, Rwanda has chosen to go back to its tribal roots to resolve the legalistic problems the genocide created. Thousands of genocidaires (those that committed atrocities) are in jail – and each has a Gacaca trial. It is a trial of their peers in front of the community. It is a pretty neat system, but the government currently estimates that it will take 400 years to get through everyone, so it is untenable.

On our final night in Kigali, we went back the New Cactus restaurant. In Rwanda, we had the best food we have had in Africa. During dinner, we reflected on Rwanda – it is a sad and reserved people, all trying to figure out how to deal with the past and move forward. In this emotionally difficult space, those that we befriended were some of the most gentle, honest, helpful, and gracious that we have met.