A Sobering Start

Well, here I am, safe and sound in Kigali, the capital of Rwanda. After 4 flights, we arrived last night around 9pm local time. It was dark when we arrived, but this morning we woke up to the beautiful hills for which Kigali, and the country, is known. I've heard it referred to as the San Francisco of the West, with regard its the terrain.

We are living in luxury here at a beautiful hotel, La Palisse. There is a pool and our room has a small balcony overlooking the hills. We have a flush toilet and warm water, as well as a mosquito net, minibar fridge and television in our room. The lobby provides free internet. I feel slightly guilty, but I am not complaining.

In any event we kicked the day off with a visit to WE-ACTx, a clinic for folks with HIV/AIDS. They are a great group. I'm excited to learn more about their work; they are very decentralized. It is an NGO that truly responds to the needs of the people, rather than acting on what 'they' think the people need. In any event, I went as a translator to help while the doctors on our trip observed patient consultations. My medical French vocabulary isn't strong, but between my skills and the doctor's knowledge and common medical language, we were able to put the pieces together. It was humbling and awkward, though, to sit in on a person's doctor appointment. The incredible part though is that the Rwandan government provides antiretroviral treatments for free. This has made a HUGE difference for those living with the disease. They can be functioning and contributing members of their community. This was not the case before ARVs were available. Only 40-50% of the population in need, however, is currently receiving treatment.

After a delicious lunch (rice, beans, spinach? stew, fish, and squash), we went to the Kigali Memorial Center. It has an exhibition hall which tells the history of Rwanda leading up the 1994 genocide and also has an exhibit dedicated to some of the other genocides that have occurred, including Armenia, Bosnia, Cambodia, and Southwest Africa. The museum was quite moving. In addition to the thorough historic account, there were many graphic photographs that really helped me understand how this country looked in those days. I can't say that I will ever understand their experiences.

I was particularly struck by the darkly lit room that had many display cases containing skulls and bones. Some of the skulls were smashed or had chunks missing. But generally speaking, they were all the same. In the end, every human being has the same fundamental bones. It's incredible the things we do to one another based on looks. And I am not only referring to this genocide.

At the end of the exhibit, they had photos of children, young children. Little plaques described their favorite food or best friend, etc. It also described the way by which they died. Many were macheted to death. One small child was killed when he was stabbed in both eyes and the skull. How could there have been such hatred, such maliciousness? And these were innocent children. We can thank colonizers for creating a distinction between Hutus and Tutsis. Prior to their arrival they lived as one people. They were all simply Rwandans.

Before we went into the museum, though, we paid our respects at one of the mass graves. This particular one has a glass cover, allowing you to see the caskets. This memorial site is also a mass burial site for the victims in Kigali alone. To date they have buried 258,000 people. There are 15 mass graves. Each is 15 feet deep and can hold up to 50,000 people. And these were just the victims in Kigali. We said Kaddish (a Jewish mourning prayer) and placed stones on the grave.

It is really unfathomable. But it is so fresh. Every Jewish person knows someone, at least, who was personally affected by the Holocaust. But time has begun to distance us. Here, however, every single Rwandan was directly influenced by this genocide. It's striking, astounding. There are really no words to describe the feelings that accompany me here. A lot is a lack of comprehension.

On the bus ride, one woman asked our bus driver if he was here in 1994. He was not, he was safe in Burundi. I had been near him in the exhibit and he had cried a great deal. Then she asked, with her unyielding curiosity, if he had lost someone in the genocide. "Oui," he responded. She asked, "Who?" and he did not answer. Everyone, save the children who were born after, has this memory to cope with. It's hard (hard does not do it justice, but I don't know another word).

Oh there is so much to share with you, but I fear it's too long. One thing though, WE-ACTx was formed because women here grouped together and asked for help. They were upset because many of them had contracted HIV when they were raped during the genocide. Their rapists, who were locked up in jail, were receiving ARVs and they were not. Oh the contradiction! Mardge Cohen, a co-founder of the clinic, explained the mental stress from which many of their clients suffer. Having survived the Genocide, they now have to deal with this stigmatizing and potentially debilitating disease.

We did a check in tonight. We each shared our personal reasons for coming and how we're feeling so far. I thought I'd share my response. I came because my experience in Senegal in 2006-2007 was so transformative for me. When I heard about this trip with the synagogue, I was eager to participate. It was a good opportunity to see a different region of Africa and also to have a Jewish experience here. That was an important missing component of my experiences in Senegal. I was lucky enough to make things work so this trip was possible.

I am struggling with being a tourist and traveling with a large group. And though I have a leg up on the others by speaking French, I still feel as though I cannot communicate. I wish I could speak Kinyarwanda or Swahili. I struggle with speaking the 'colonizers' language. One week is not enough time to immerse myself in a culture and to get to know the people. That is how I prefer to travel. But I still think it is important to come.

I also recognize over and over the great privileges that I have been given in my life. It is hard to reconcile all that I have compared with the poor mother begging with her baby on the street. And I consider myself to be a poor college graduate. Poor. Hmmmm.

It's good to be back on this continent, general a comment as that is.
I am glad I'm here. Brant (our rabbi) put it the best when he emphasized the importance of coming and bearing witness. Today has been a striking and sobering start to this journey.