I-Gone da Rwanda

I am finally home from my excursion to Western Uganda and Rwanda. Most of it I spent sitting in a bus, but for the rest of it, I have many stories. And a very long blog entry for you to read…

Our first stop as we drove west was at the equator. Such a prime tourist destination, but of course we had to stop to take some pictures. That night we got to Mbarara, which is a much smaller city than Kampala. It was much calmer and less populated though, which felt weird since we’re all used to the chaos of Kampala by now.  The next day we went to visit the UN headquarters of the Millennium Village Projects (MVP), which is essentially a large development organization that works on a few villages at a time and helps develop the village  as well as implement and provide resources that allow the village to sustain itself as MVP eventually pulls out. There are 14 MVP villages in 10 African countries. After the introduction, we got on the bus and drove two hours to Rujiira, where MVP is working on a village in Uganda. We walked around and got a tour of all of the smaller projects that MVP is helping to apply such as electricity, irrigation, medical services etc. The best part was walking down to where the water pumps are located at the base of the mountain. It was the first time I was completely surrounded by nature since I got to Uganda and I was the happiest person in the world. It was absolutely beautiful being surrounded by banana trees and fields of green! I enjoyed the visit mostly because it was the first example of a development project that seemed to be successful. Of course there are holes and it’s important to be a critic, but the project gave me hope that it is possible to tackle the complex problem of development.

The next day, we visited a refugee settlement. It was the most moving experience of my life. The idea was that we would split our group into smaller groups and each go to speak with a different divison of people at the refugee settlement based on their country of origin. When we got off the bus, we were bombarded with refugees from all different countries wanting to know who we were, what we were doing there and how we could help them. The first woman I talked to was Congolese and without asking, she immediately began telling me her story of how she got there. As she spoke to me, she was crying and it was hard to hold back my own tears. What makes the settlement, a settlement rather than a camp is that it is not a temporary situation for the refugees. They can buy a home and get a job there and are given land to cultivate. This seemed to me like a good alternative to a camp, because the settlement appeared to me like any other Ugandan village I had seen. However, the down side is that they are hardly provided anything from the government. They’re free in every way, but due to lack of money, most of them don’t leave the settlement. They are given a small amount of food and water every month, but it’s hardly enough to survive and many are unable to work and are left hungry and homeless. They have the opportunity to apply to be relocated, but the risk is that they be turned down and either sent back to their original country unwillingly or turned down to remain in Uganda and risk their chances of ever getting the change to leave.

The next man I talked to made a huge impression on my life. He was clearly a little out of his mind, and when he approached me, he introduced himself as “I believe”. He wore a cone hat he had made from paper, which had some angry statements about the poor treatment of the UNHCR (United Nations Higher Commission for Refugees) and some other things I didn’t understand. His eyes were red (I think from being drunk) and he was no doubt the scariest person I have ever seen. I told him my name and he began to point out things on both mine and my friend, Jessamy’s appearance. He pointed to our clothing and shoes and Jessamy’s painted nails and then poked our stomach’s to indicate that they were convex. He lifted his own shirt and pointed to his empty belly. He began accusing us angrily and in a raised voice of what we have and where we come from and how we were intruding. I didn’t understand a lot of what he was saying because of his accent, but I could understand the general idea of it because of his tone and body language.  As he spoke he stepped closer and closer to me until my back was against the bus and his face was inches from mine. When he was done with his lecture, he paused and waited for me to reply. I was so overwhelmed that all I said was, “I don’t understand”. He replied practically yelling at me, “I don’t need a translator. I am my own translator and you know what I am saying to you!” At this point I couldn’t handle it anymore and I turned and climbed into the bus, crying. My reaction surprised me, and thinking back on it, I am glad I had that experience because it gave me such an extreme sense of reality of this refugee settlement. At the time however, it completely shook me up and it was hard to focus for the rest of the day. After that we separated into small groups and I went to talk to the Rwandese. I was glad to be able to talk to them, because I had a lot of questions about why they chose to remain in the camp even 20 years after the genocide when the country was portrayed as being at peace. We sat under a tree in the Rwandan section of the settlement with our translator and waited for people to come join and speak with us. At first we had only small children who were there just to stare at us. The adults were reluctant to speak with us, but by the end there were about 30 adults surrounding us.  In general, the response was that what we were hearing was just what they are portraying in the newspapers and that they knew if they went back to their country, there was still discrimination. They told us they no longer felt that they belonged to Rwanda, yet they did not associate themselves with Uganda. They are just refugees.

The part that I learned the most from was at the end. He told us the reason they were hesitant to talk to us was because they’re used to having Americans, Canadians and Europeans come in to their settlement and ask the refugees to speak about their stories and challenges. The refugees have been left feeling exploited as they pour out their hearts and as a result, they get no benefit. They see us as hope, yet they see no change to their lives. They feel that we, as listeners, researchers or students, are their ambassadors of change and that we should give something in return for their generosity. This was difficult for me to hear and I have been battling with this thought ever since. This is a difficult realization that I expect I will continue to struggle with for the remainder of my time here. There is an inevitable hierarchy of power and I’m finding it difficult to deal with. The book “The Uncertain Business of Doing Good: Outsiders in Africa” by Larry Krotz talks a lot about this issue (… I hear. As it was a required reading for this trip, maybe I should actually read it).

The next day, we crossed the border to Rwanda. The drive was breathtaking. As soon as we entered the country, we drove through a valley of tea farms. When we got to Kigali, the capital city of Rwanda, I could not believe how different it was from Kampala. It was so much cleaner and more organized and there were traffic rules so it was much less chaotic. It's hard to believe how far the country has come since the genocide, but I guess that's what happens when you're under pressure.

Our stay in Rwanda was short, but filled with activities. We visited three genocide memorials in one day. The first two were at churches just outside Kigali and they were where a total of about 15,000 Tutsi people took refuge and were eventually killed during the genocide in 1994. The churches had been transformed into memorials/museums and they displayed the clothing and other items of those who had been killed there. One of the churches had an underground mass grave where the bones and skulls of the people were displayed. It was really difficult to walk through the grave with all of the open shelves of skulls facing me as if they were looking at me. It was then that it hit me how many people were killed in the genocide. And that was only one church! At the other church, our tour guide was a survivor of the genocide. He was only a few years older than me, which made me realize the reality of just how recent these events occurred. It was interesting and sad to hear his story. Next we went to the Genocide Memorial of Kigali, which focused mostly on the Rwandan Genocide, but also had a section of other major genocides that have occurred throughout the world. Needless to say, it was a very emotional day.

At the end of the day, we were all drained and speechless, but we had one more place we wanted to see. A small group of us walked to Hotel Mille Collines, which is the hotel that the movie Hotel Rwanda is based on. We went to the bar by the pool and had a drink and reflected on the day together. It was a beautiful hotel which clearly attracted the wealthiest tourists and visitors, but it still felt a little eerie to be there. Even after my whole experience in Rwanda, I still find it hard to wrap my head around the genocide. It still doesn’t feel real, and I wonder if it ever will.

On a much, MUCH lighter note, the following day, we crossed the border back to Uganda and went on TWO safaris. One was a boat safari in Queen Elizabeth National Park on Lake Edward. We saw elephants, hippos, crocodiles, a monkey, cape buffalo, water bucks, and a lot of cool birds. The next morning we woke up at 5 am for an early morning “game drive”. We saw a lion on the way to the safari grounds, which was the coolest thing ever! On the actual game drive we saw more buffalo, wart hogs, a hyena and a lot of deer. I have yet to see rhinos, zebras, gorillas or giraffe, but I’m working on it.

I had a great week, but I’m looking forward to two weeks back in Kampala. We just began taking our afternoon classes at Makerere University, where we go after our Luganda lessons. It’s cool to be on a college campus and to be taking a class with Ugandans. I’m taking a class on Politics and Grassroots.

If you’ve gotten this far, I thank you for staying with me through this extremely long entry.

Pictures coming soon…