Saying goodbye to Rwanda

This week I said my good-byes to my Rwandan family and friends, my neighborhood and the places I have come to love in Kigali, and travelled back to Uganda. We drove to Mbarara in Southern Uganda and met the other group for a couple of days. The main thing we did there was visit Nakivale Refugee Settlement, where thousands of refugees from DRC, Rwanda, Somalia, Eritrea and Sudan are living. It was a very interesting experience, but more about that later.

In leaving Rwanda, I realize that so much has happened in the past 6 weeks that it would be impossible to capture it all. I cannot believe my time in Rwanda has come to an end. It came and went so quickly, with such a wide range of emotions- so many struggles, achievements, friendships made and an incredible amount of learning along the way. I initially chose this program for the Uganda portion, but Rwanda itself has already had such an affect on me. I could never have imagined that my stay in Rwanda would help me to better understand things like justice, forgiveness, the complexity of truth, the importance and power of a caring community, the ways two people can communicate when they speak different languages, the immense tragedy of death caused by hatred, the strength that humans have within themselves that helps them to survive and begin to heal from something as awful as genocide, the importance of hope for the future, the necessity of having faith in other people, how wonderful it is to laugh with and enjoy the company of new friends from another culture, and that bucket showers save A LOT of water. In many ways I feel like my time here has made me more confused about certain things my experiences so far have left me with more questions than answers, and I am excited to continue to search for answers to these questions during the rest of my time in Uganda, acknowledging and being ok with the fact that I won’t figure out the answers to all of them. Some questions I am currently thinking about are: What is and what should be the role of the international community in conflicts worldwide? What role does international aid play in developing communities- is it really helping or does it ultimately continue the cycle of poverty? If so, is there a way to change the structure so that this does not happen? What role do US interests play our involvement and policies towards African nations? How can we make our policies be less about our interests and more about the needs of the African people? What role can I and do I want to play in all of this? How can I make the largest, most sustainable and most responsible difference possible?

Though some may seem small, and some are larger, there are several moments that really stood out about my time in Rwanda for one reason or another. I’ll write about some of them here so that you can see some of the things I’ve been up to and what I’ve been thinking about.

On the last Saturday of each month, there is no school (yes, there is usually school on Saturday!), all shops, businesses, and offices are closed so that everyone has the morning off, and the public transportation system is not in operation. During this period of time, every Rwandan is supposed to take part in a community service project in his or her neighborhood, and then attend a neighborhood meeting. This is called Umuganda. I attended Umuganda with my 20-year-old sister. She said that because of the rain it would not be as big as usual. We walked out of our house, turned our corner, and immediately saw about 50 people shoveling and hacking at the road with hoes. My first impression was that they were nearly all men, I saw about five women. Everyone seemed a bit surprised to see me, but I smiled and gave my greetings to the group. My sister handed me a hoe and I raised it over my head and pummeled it into the ground, attempting to copy the skill of those around me. The entire group burst out laughing at my attempt. One guy, who looked like he was in his early 20’s decided to make me his pet project, and spent a good 15 minutes trying to teach me how to do it properly (it is much more difficult than it looks!) I’m not sure that I ever got it perfectly to his satisfaction, but I eventually got the basic hang of it.

As soon as I heard about Umuganda, I though it was such a great idea. I am often frustrated and disappointed by the lack of dedication to service in the US. Don’t get me wrong, many people volunteer massive amounts of their time in the US, but there are also a large group of people who do not even consider doing so. To set aside one morning per month to spend time together bettering the community seems like such a nice concept. The only thing vaguely like this on a large level in the US is the National Day of Service on September 11th, which encourages the public to take part in some type of community service project on 9/11 of each year. Many people participate in this, but many people also do not. Because Umuganda is done by neighborhood, it serves to bring the community together in addition to its purpose to improve the physical conditions of the area. As I was participating in Umuganda, I saw the people around me talking as they worked. By bring people together in this way, the neighborhood is bound to get closer. I think that neighborhoods are already much closer here than they are in most parts of the US, but umuganda only serves to strengthen this sense of community. It is powerful to see neighbors coming together to better their community, when one of the most disturbing parts of the genocide was the way that neighbors turned on one another.

I was a little disappointed to see that many people do not attend Umuganda, and instead use the time to clean the house, catch up on rest, etc. My sister said that my papa usually comes but that he had not come today because he was exhausted from just coming back from Kampala. When I asked about mama, my sister said that most women do not come because they don’t like the physical labor. When she told me this as we were shoveling the road, I worried that this meant that the women also do not attend the community meeting after the project, and therefore do not participate in community discussions and decisions. This assumption turned out to be wrong, many women turned up for the meeting, and they participated heavily.

The community meeting struck me as incredible and like nothing I had seen before. My sister’s best friend, Ricky, sat next to me and translated what was going on for me. The meeting was run by the village chief. He made announcements about different things going on in the village (they call the various neighborhoods outside the main part of town “villages”), like various meetings and projects. He also thanked everyone who participated in Umuganda, stressing the importance of working together to improve the community, and asked everyone to encourage the people who were not present to come next time. He then asked if anyone had problems they wanted to discuss. One man brought up the fact that every time it rains heavily, his house gets flooded with water. Many people also shared that they were also having this problem, and that it was damaging for their house and personal items. Many people took turns talking, and they ultimately decided that they need to dig more ditches on the side of the road for the water to go into. Someone pointed out that it is very important that people take responsibility and actually dig the ditch in front of their house, because each person will has to pay the consequences if they do not. After this discussion, a woman stood up and told the community about the particularly difficult situation she is currently in. Her husband is in the hospital with a heart condition and she cannot pay the medical bills for his treatment. He is not doing well, and the doctor has pretty much given up on him. She does not own her house (she is renting it), but she doesn’t have the money to pay the rent. Also, her children have not been in school for four months because she cannot pay the fees. Everyone at this meeting then began discussing this woman’s situation and what they should do to help her. Someone suggested taking the community dues that they pay and giving some of it to her to help her pay the hospital bills, the rent or the school fees. Someone else said that this was not a sustainable solution; they could pay a few months of this lady’s rent, but then what? Someone else said that he thought she might be lying about the hospital bills and that she had actually already paid them. One man then said that he is the director of the local primary school, and that he could help her get her kids into school without paying the fees until she is in a better financial situation. The woman then mentioned that she is from Burundi. Someone asked her if she has land there, and she said that she does. They then discussed paying the transportation costs for her and her children to go back to Burundi, because then at least she would have a place to live and land to farm. After much discussion, I think they decided to help her with her rent for a couple of months and then go from there.

There were several things that struck me about what I had just seen. First, about 50 people were sitting around talking about this lady’s problems. This would NEVER happen in the US because most people are ashamed of their problems and try to hide them from the people around them, often especially their neighbors! I asked Ricky if he thought she minded that all of these people were talking about her problems, but he said that she did not mind and that it was in fact good for her, because she now had the support of the community. He also said something along the lines of, “Why would she want to keep it private? That would do her no good.” I then wondered if people ever take advantage of this opportunity for support when they don’t really need it. Ricky said that this doesn’t happen, because then people would not help them when a time came where they really needed it. The other main thing that struck me was the fact that all of these people took the time to sit around for probably around 45 minutes and try to come up with solutions for this woman on a Saturday afternoon. I feel like some people in the US complain about having to sit and listen to a good friend talk about their problems for this amount of time. I really appreciate the fact that people are really dedicated to the community and the people in it, and they take the time and energy to really try to help each other. From my experiences with Umuganda and the community meeting, I think we have a lot to learn from the Rwandese people.

Another thing that stands out from my time in Rwanda was hearing the personal stories of people who have survived the genocide. Towards the end of our time there, one of our program staff gave us his testimony. We had heard many other people’s stories, but none had hit me in the way that his did. We had spent the last month with him, sharing meals, funny stories, and getting to know each other as people. I had gotten to know him more as a really person than as a survivor first, and so hearing his story hit much closer to home. When he told us that the UN soldiers who were guarding the school that him and his family were in locked them in the school and basically left them to die, my stomach dropped. He then continued to say that many of his family members were killed at this school- just a half a mile from UN headquarters. WHAT?? What is the point of the UN if they are not going to come through for people in times of great need, when people’s lives are literally in immediate danger? This must feel like such a betrayal; you go to a place tat is supposed to be safe because the UN is protecting it, and then most of your family members are killed because your “protectors” leave?! I know it is much more complicated than this and it is possible that they had to leave because their lives would also be in danger, and that the UN has done good in Rwanda since then genocide, but it is just so hard to hear a story like this. It is so incredible to see how people like him have gone on to dedicate their lives to memorializing the genocide and preventing further genocides, and I respect him so much for being willing to share his story.

On a lighter note, another really memorable experience was taking a boat to Bat Island with my group while we were staying at Lake Kivu. Lake Kivu is on the border of Rwanda and DRC and it is BEAUTIFUL! All 13 of us piled onto a motorboat. It was about a half hour ride to the island and it was absolutely gorgeous. As cheesy as it sounds, the cool breeze was so refreshing, and I couldn’t stop starring at the seemingly unreal teal color of the water. We got to the little island and piled out of the boat. It seriously felt like we were on survivor- the island seemed solely inhabited with wildlife. We were told that the bats come out at dusk and dawn, but we were there in the middle of the day, so we didn’t really expect to see them. However, as we began to walk on the island, the bats began flying out of the trees by the hundred, and soon the sky was COVERED with bats. It was like Hitchcock’s The Bird’s: Part II. SO SCARY. After a few encounters with undesirable bat poop, we decided that a few too many bats had appeared out of nowhere, and we were ready to get out of there. We immediately dove into the teal water, right off the island. Swimming in that water surrounded only by the sky, a tree (and bat)-filled island, and more water was so relaxing, and it was so nice to share this moment with my group, who have really become great friends of mine.

This is super random, but this experience also stood out to me as a special moment. One night, after I had gone out to dinner with a group of friends, I took a private taxi back to my house. This was the first time I was taking one (I usually use the public transportation system but that does not run late at night), so I was surprised to find out that the taxi would not take me all the way to my house because the driver said his car could not handle the bad dirt road. I had no idea what to do- it was about 12:30 AM at that point and I did not feel comfortable making the walk on the long, dark road by myself. Suddenly, my friend who was in the taxi with me because she was going to continue taking it to her house yelled, “Look! Two girls, go with them!!” The two girls looked about my age, and I ran up to them. I introduced myself in Kinyerwanda and they introduced themselves to me. The three of us began to walk in the same direction and then one of the girls turned down another road to go home. The road was pretty muddy, so my new friend grabbed my hand to help me navigate the path. I quickly realized that she didn’t speak English, so I asked her in Kinyerwanda how old she is. We were both very excited to find that we are both 20. We couldn’t really communicate much more than that, so we just held hands and laughed all the way to my house. It was as if we were young schoolgirls coming home from class, except that it was dark instead of light, and our main source of communication was laughter. We said goodbye outside my house and then she continued down the path to her house. I never saw her again after that, but it struck me as such a special chance meeting of two 20-year-old girls of two cultures with two difference languages who had found comfort in each other on their walk home one night.