La guerre

Before coming to Rwanda, it was very important for all of us to learn about the genocide that happened in 1994. I read books and articles and wikipedia and I thought I knew. I was prepared to ask questions and be a sympathetic ear. I was ready, nothing could affect me, ten foot tall and bulletproof going to africa. Nothing could have prepared me.

The effects of the genocide are quiet, they flow silently below the surface with a strange look or veiled comments. Two tribes, one who on three different occasions overthrew the government and slaughtered millions of the other, attempt to peacefully coexist. At first I assumed that everyone who believed in slaughtering millions of Tutsi's must have been gone and everyone left has just banned together to rebuild. That is fairytale bullshit. In reality, Rwanda is held together by a very delicate balance. Many of the active Hutu genocide participants are under investigation for crimes they committed 13 years ago and cannot be vocal, but operate now as sleeper cells in the community surrounding the area that I live. Periodically, stock piles of guns and knives are found in school buildings and libraries. War crimes trial proceedings occur every weekend. And amidst the choas families attempt to rebuild.

Last night, 10 of us sat around the dinner table with our director, Dr. Susan Allen who shared her experience of having two sons and living in Kigali throughout the beginning of the genocide. Having half of her staff murdered, by the other half of her staff, who still work at the project. Killing not because they were killers but because they themselves would be killed if they did not participate. I had not thought much about the genocide since arriving, assuming it was like politics or religion, impolite to bring up. However, it is simply too painful for many to speak of. Rwandese people divide their life into avant la guerre and apres la guerre which means before the war and after the war. Dr. Allen pointed out several members of our project staff who lost most of their immediate family. Tutsi women beyond childbearing age were left alive, and all of their children and family killed so that they could suffer more and carry the message of terror. I did not know that the house I stay in now has had people die in every room, bodies burried in the yard, and down the street, and all around me. In the room that I sleep, there were bullets and mortar shells and blood and death.

One thing is for sure, each and every rwandan man woman and child who gets up and goes to work today is a miracle for their persistance to live their own life, their choice to return and rebuild. And when you mean them, if you didn't know better, you would dismiss the moment of pause where you sense fallout or misery, as nothing. Its also terror. Its also the assumption that killing and war will inevitably return to their country, many of them lay in bed at night and wait, jumping at every noise, looking over their shoulder, ear to the ground, just waiting.