August 5

Yesterday I saw the Quebec girls again. Some of them live in Montreal, and I’m really excited for us to be friends when I get back. They are awesome. It was their last day in Rwanda, so we went to the memorial in Nyamata and then to dinner. It was one of the memorials that I have seen already, but I saw it very early on in the trip, and it was actually harder to see the second time. Being here for two months and talking with people about their experiences, hearing about what happened firsthand really changed the way I related to the memorial. We were there with Asnathe, a friend of the Quebeckers who grew up in Nyamata, and during the genocide she was hiding in the forest right by this church, where thousands were massacred. Many of her family and friends died there. She told us about going into the church a few days after the massacre and seeing bodies piled halfway up to the ceiling. I was amazed at how composed she was through the whole thing, but then she told us that she goes to visit the memorial very often, so she is used to it by now. The guy who gave us a tour also grew up in Nyamata, and on the way back to Kigali we talked about what it must be like to work at a memorial like that. It is one thing to go and visit once in a while, but to have a full-time job that consists of talking about something that horrific must take a very strong character.

I have been really amazed at the way people are open about genocide here. When we were doing client interviews, there were some questions that asked about extended family, and people would just say “My entire family was murdered in ’94.” There were some people who had injuries that looked like genocide injuries, like they were missing hands or eyes or had large gashes in their heads that really looked like they were from machetes. They would just tell us “this is from genocide.” It is really hard to react in situations like that because what do you say to someone who had their head nearly cut in half by the Interahamwe? At the same time, I think it is good how the people want to tell us, they want us to go back and tell our friends, they want me to write this in my blog because they think that the more we are made aware of the atrocities that occurred, the more likely we are not to have another genocide like theirs.

After the memorial, we went to the market in Kimironko, the big market in Kigali, so they could smuggle sugar cane back to Canada. If they’re successful, I will also try to bring some back. It’s pretty great. It was fun for me to be the tour guide. I got us all on the right buses, showed them around the market, argued prices (in kinyarwanda!) and it was really great. I am just starting to feel at home here, even out in the city, and I’m sad to leave just when I’m starting to fit in (I use that term loosely…) It’s only recently that I’ve started to handle tricky situations with grace and humor. Like at the market, when you walk through the main gates, dozens of boys mob you and try to sell you bags, get you to pay them to carry your stuff, or just beg for money. It’s pretty intense, and definitely uncomfortable when you are going to a market to buy things and people ask you for money, because everyone knows that you have some so you’ve really got no good excuse. But I have several ways of accomplishing two key things: First, having a moment of shared humanity with the kids (like laughing together when they say “I want money” and I say “Oya, ndashaka amafaranga,” which means “no, I want money!”) and second, getting them to eventually leave me alone. It feels pretty great. Okay, back to the point. Then we went to dinner, had a great time, some really good goat brochettes, and banana beer. Warning: It is CALLED beer, but it’s actually 14% alcohol, which is a good thing to know BEFORE consumption. Just thought you all should be aware, you know, for next time you’re in East Africa.

I spent the whole afternoon and evening home today, which was great because I have been out a lot lately and haven’t gotten enough family/baby time. Neema and I hung out, and just talked about stuff and played with Wesley for hours. I am going to miss that baby.