Monday, June 11, 2012

arriving in Kigali


So it’s my 5th night in Rwanda and I can’t sleep.  This may have something to do with the latte macchiato I had for dinner…  I’m the only occupant of a dorm at the presbyterienne church compound.  (Next day)  Ironically, as soon as I typed that there was a knock on the door and I became one of two occupants.  I arrived at Kigali airport around 11pm, walked down the steps of the plane and was guided to the terminal.  Conveniently, no visa is required for US citizens so I got by bag and found a taxi to town.  The driver was a Rwandan with a similar history as the President.  His parents had moved to Uganda when they deemed it was unsafe here so he was raised in Uganda.  He moved to Rwanda in 1995 after the genocide but likes to visit where he was raised from time to time.  When I told him I would be spending a few months in the Congo he described what he sees as the key difference between the countries and why it is better to live in Rwanda, ‘In Congo, people do not love their country.  They are just living for themselves and because of this it is dangerous and anything can happen.’  He described the law and order including the large fine for just hitting one of the street lights, or being locked up for seven years for starting a bar fight.  We passed a police stop and he told me they were looking for drunk drivers because it was the weekend.  When we arrived at the hotel, I learned they had not saved me a room but was incredibly impressed with the driver’s patience and help in looking for another hotel, without expecting an additional charge. 

I didn’t do much in Kigali, as I had hit up the spots I wanted to back in 2007.  I spent time at wireless hotspots including a nice café with good Rwandan coffee and a place with good palak paneer.  One of the key differences in my approach that I want to work on this round in East Africa is being more open to hearing people’s experiences and not be so hard (particularly towards men) always thinking they expect something from me.  So far I have only had 2 encounters that passed my threshold of comfort, but am happy with my reaction.  The first was in Kigali.  I met a young man, Fidele, who had recently completed secondary school.  His parents are dead and he lives with his grandmother in her 70’s.  His family was able to support him in attending secondary school but he has aspirations to go on and study finance at the University in Kigali.  Secondary school costs about $250 a year whereas University costs about $995, a significant difference.  I explained that I was a student but that our fees are closer to $50,000 a year and we usually can get government loans.  He is currently working a temp job at an optical center that will end in 2 weeks and says it is difficult to find work here.  He is looking for sponsors and I admired his commitment to trying to fulfill his aspirations by seeking out the opportunities that are available to him.  Unlike me who can rely on government loans (however forbearing) to fulfill my aspirations, loans are not an option here.  I enjoyed 2 conversations with him, but was uncomfortable when he came to my room early the morning before I took off for Gisenyi.  Whereas I didn’t like that the hotel told him and allowed him to come to my room, I appreciated this lax policy a couple nights before when I was able to go talk to my friends Matt and Judy in their room.  My biggest discomfort came from both him being outside my room before I had awoken and also the fact that I was carrying more than his desired University’s annual fee on me.  It all just seems ridiculous and this is probably why it is easier to be hard and not hear people’s experiences. 

It has been a policy for me not to feel “white man’s guilt” for what has happened in communities before I entered them.  Whereas it is important to be cognizant and sensitive to previous interactions that have occurred, I can only be responsible for my own actions.  Actually, it was from better off Tanzanians during my Peace Corps service that I learned that one doesn’t necessarily need to bear the burdens of others’ struggles but rather appreciate what one has been given in life.  My encounter with Fidele challenged this policy of mine.  On one level, it would comparatively not hurt me too bad financially to help him, but on another level I’m not in a position to be supporting others in that way, nor is it my obligation.  Mostly, I am learning to be comfortable in my own discomfort and share what is in my power to share- a compassionate ear. 

It was a nice bus ride to Gisenyi with roads winding in the fertile hills.  My favorite site was plump orange carrots being placed in a carrier of wooden poles to be transported or sold on the side of the street.  I’m reading a book called Blood River about a British man’s journey retracing the path of Henry Morton Stanley through the Congo.  Being in Rwanda, where my ability to communicate is a mix of three languages (since I do not know the dominant language Kinyarwandan) and reading this book that discusses the history of the Congo, I am sensitive to Swahili being an oppressive language in a way that I never had been before.  In Tanzania, most people speak Swahili so I always felt it was an indication of my integration that I spoke the language.  In Uganda, I was aware that it could be an oppressive language because it was the language of Idi Amin.  But here in Rwanda, it is used much in the way for which it was developed, as a functional language to allow trade between countries and peoples.  Unfortunately much of the trade when the language developed involved the exploitation and even enslavement of other people.  This was most poignant to me when Olive, a young Rwandan woman who works the reception desk of the church hostile and always has a beautiful smile on her face, said I speak “Kiswahili cha Zanzibar.”  In my head I thought, well Swahili of Tanzania but I did live on Zanzibar for a year which got me thinking about the different ways the language is used and how Zanzibar was a major site of the Arab slave trade.  Which made me feel an uncomfortable association with that.             

(Next day) Matt, Judy, and Claire arrived in Gisenyi yesterday and we have come out to a peninsula and staying in a hotel of adorable bungalows.  This setting is the best I have seen so far here on Lake Kivu.  Across a small bay there are some hot springs that we will row one of the hotel’s boats to that is said to have healing powers.  About a ten minute walk from here is the major beer factory for Rwanda where we hope to be given a tour of.  This factory and the electric factory here are run on methane gas from the volcanic lake and it will be interesting to try and learn more about this unique utilization of energy.         

2 comments:

  1. Great post Erica; thank you. I love the line: "Mostly, I am learning to be comfortable in my own discomfort and share what is in my power to share- a compassionate ear."

    You've gotten to the heart of something I think about--and struggle with--a lot.

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  2. Thanks Kerry. We've gone into what we have because we care, but acknowledge that despite appearances, we actually have little capacity to impact things. That's why systems are so appealing though seem to have little direct impact on injustice and suffering, which we would love to be able to alleviate. It seems that working on systems without loving people or loving people without working on the system, just isn't enough. Maybe a complete person does both, and more...

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