As I prepare to leave Uganda to return to the States, I thought I would look back on this semester and record some of the more memorable times.
5 Not-so-Happy
5. Apallon's speech: My assistant director Apallon gave us a lecture on the politics of memory and memorializing the genocide. He designed many of the major genocide memorials in Rwanda, including Gisozi and Murambi (both below). Everyday for three weeks before the lecture we had seen him, hung out with him, joked with him. Before his lecture, he gave us his testimony. We knew he had lost some family in the genocide, but we never knew to what extent. He saw the death of his father, the death of his mother by the hands of his good childhood friend, the death of his brother, sister-in-law, and their unborn baby, as well as the death of his brother’s killer. It was surreal to see this normally strong, laughing man shaking and emotional.
4. Gisozi: Gisozi is the main national genocide memorial and museum center in Rwanda. It is the memorial that honors and houses the dead of Kigali during the genocide. It also serves as an informative museum. It reminds me of the Holocaust museum in DC except more graphic and intentionally more emotional. It has one section that takes visitors through the history of the Rwanda genocide, a section that informs visitors about other noteworhty genocides and ethnic cleansings of the 20th century, and a section on the children who died in the genocide. It is moving, horrible, informative, and beautiful.
3. My Rwandan family's story: My Rwandan family was deeply affected by the genocide as were most families in Rwanda. While I do not want to tell my family's personal story in a side note in a blog, I will tell anyone who asks in person. My family has asked me to share their story. They were attacked, lost members of their family, and finished 1994 as refugees. I will remember my relationship with them, the strength of my family, and their story of how hate leads to unnecessary pain.
2. Child Soldier: The lawyer who heads the Amnesty Department for former child soldiers gave us a lecture. He brought with him a former child soldier to tell her story as an example for why child soldiers deserve amnesty. As she began to tell her story, she started stumbling over her words and crying. The lawyer urged her to continue beyond her quiet tremors. He allowed her to take a break. When she began again, she started to talk about how a 16 year-old boy was killed in front of her eyes. When she got to the part about how her friend couldn't keep up with the group she trailed off before she could say that her friend was murdered. She is trying to keep herself in check, but she's sobbing silently and can't get any more words out. And what does the laywer who is paid to defend her do? He yells at her to continue. And when she can't, no matter how much he berates her, he turns to us and says, "You see what she is? This is called traumatization. She is traumatized." Most disgusting thing I have ever, ever seen. Finally our director stands up and tells the lawyer to move on. That she was forced to tell a story that retraumatized her in front of a bunch of white people while her lawyer yelled at her for crying, it still makes me nauseous.
1. Murambi: Murambi is a memorial site where 50,000 people were killed within three days of the genocide. The families of the deceased have decided to preserve some of the bodies and display them for visitors as a visually shocking "Never again" statement. It was a technical school on top of a hill where the Tutsis were told by their mayor to seek refuge. When you visit the memorial, you walk through classroom after classroom where hundreds of bodies are on display. They are frozen in the positions that they died. You can see sawed off limbs, evidence of sadistic torture before the final end, mothers and children killed together, mouths silently screaming for mercy, and smashed babies. It is utterly, devastatingly, violently hell on earth. A hell I will never, ever, in all of my nightmares and in all of my days, forget.
Because this semester was not all doom and gloom, I want to finish my final blog and my semester with my happy memories.
5 Happy
5. The scenery: The most beautiful places I have ever seen. I have been so fortunate to travel to these places, see landscapes other people only dream about, and have the familiarity to take advantage of it. I try to appreciate it for everything it is, but I don’t think I will fully recognize how lucky I am until I return to the States. Here’s to hoping Senegal is as beautiful!
4. The discovery of what I want to do: Because of what I have seen and done here, this program affirmed my future aspirations. I have officially decided to pursue a career in peace and conflict studies. While I do not have a job picked out because that’s too limiting, it is nice to have a grad degree picked out and possible internships to consider.
3. That nothing is unbearable: Living in these two war torn countries, hearing stories of terror and horror, you accept that humanity is capable of great evil. There is no denying it. But beyond the fear, beyond the pain, beyond the loss, lies another adage: Humanity is capable of great strength. This strength might show itself through the story of a hero who steps in front of fire to save a fellow human being. But more commonly, it surfaces in the story of the survivor. The survivor who survived something no one should survive. And while it’s awful to hear these stories, it’s painful, and disgusting, after so many stories you start to recognize the power of humanity to live. Through the physical and psychocosial ailments, the body and the spirit heal. Maybe not as good as before, but enough to go on living, to make a new life beyond the conflict. As odd as it sounds, it’s comforting to know we can bear the unbearable. Life does go on.
2. The strength of Rwanda and my Rwandan family: There’s nothing like being in Rwanda and seeing what it’s become. Sure there are problems and there is leftover animosity, but what that country has done, what it’s people have done, is mind-blowing, it’s unfathomable. It is all due to the character of the people and to its leaders. While the mistakes should not be overlooked, the virtues are not praised enough. Victims living next to perpetrators, forgiveness, strength, heart, surviving, life. My family was the perfect example. My mother is such a strong, gracious, beautiful soul. She cared for her family when times were impossible, she searched the world for her children, healed when there was little reason to live, and believes in unity, peace, and forgiveness in spite of everything. Living with that character taught me about what it means to live for God and for your family and for life itself.
1. I will never forget the amazing people I met this semester. They are: Waleed, Metia, Yasmin, Dean, Peace, Godfrey, my Rwandan mommy, David, Nadine, Confiance, Enzo, Doudou, Thammika, Tomomi, Kai, Taylor, and Danielle. All my love.
And so I conclude my amazing, life-altering semester.
Cheers to Egypt, Uganda, and Rwanda!!!
Friday, December 18, 2009
Friday, December 4, 2009
Dumb Things Nancy has Done or Said in Africa: Part Two
5. Money at Night: Simple mistake. I bargained 500 for a moto, which is about a dollar, reached into my wallet and pulled out of a 500 bill. Or what I thought, in the dark of night, looked like a 500 franc bill. What I actually pulled out was a 5,000 franc bill, which roughly equals $10. That’s right. I paid $10 for a ten minute ride on a motorcycle.
4. Laughing at Gisozi: We’d already been to so many memorials and we’re only human. We went to the national genocide museum, which also happens to be the memorial site for all of the people who died in Kigali during the genocide. My friend was having a mental freakout about something ridiculous that had happened on the bus ride over and we were making fun of her. We were laughing. People were mourning about 20 yards away from us. We were stupid and we stopped the second we realized. But I still feel bad about it.
3. Yelling and a Kid: This kid came up to us selling peanuts. My friend and I bought some, even though we knew they were slightly overpriced. But the kid was polite, spoke great English, and didn’t bother us too much. As we walked away, a neighborhood woman greeted him cheerfully. Twenty seconds later, the kid came running back to us saying, “I am sorry. I forgot to tell you I am hungry. I need money. Please help me.” I don’t know what happened to me. It was the combination of the number of times kids have done this to me before, the knowledge that this woman had told him to do this even though he is clearly not wanting, and the culture of begging that adults are instilling in these kids – I just blew up. I gave a frustrated, aggressive, explosive shriek. “What are they teaching these kids!?!” I didn’t yell at the kid per se, but I yelled in his vicinity. He backed away from me, apologizing profusely. He gave me the look you would give an unstable person having an episode. I calmed down and apologized right away. But I still feel like shit when I think about it.
2. Public discussion of the genocide: I was in a public internet café when my friend leaned over and softly read me an email about a prominent post-genocide figure. I responded by telling her what this figure had said in an interview I had read. Basically, I loudly and publicly declared that this famous person denied that it was a genocide of the Tutsis and insinuated it was actually a genocide of Hutus. The problem is not that I talked about this person. The problem is that 1) I used the ethnic terms, which no one really discusses anymore; and 2) that I even said the phrases “not a Tutsi genocide,” “genocide against Hutus.” The people in the internet café had complete right to hate me and try to kick me out. That I even dared to talk about their lives in such an easy way, in public no less. No one seemed horribly upset but I could tell people definitely noticed. I was a fool and so unaware of my surroundings.
1. April Birthdays: The genocide began in April. The majority of the people died in April and at the beginning of May. All of the major massacres happened in April and any family member I know of who died, died in April. So my brother Confiance and I are visiting my brother-in-law Darius. My brother is asking questions to get to know me. He asks me when my birthday is and I tell him April 8. Darius tells me his birthday is in April too. April 12th. Confiance’s birthday is also in April, April 24. I love people with April birthdays. And me being me, I forgot that I was in Rwanda and said the dumbest, worst thing I have ever said. “April is the best month, isn’t it!” Right after the words came out of my mouth I realized what I said. I actually buried my head in my hands. Darius was sweet about it. He ruefully replied, “Well, not in Rwanda.” He knew I knew I had made a mistake so it wasn’t too bad. I apologized and he just nodded his head half amused, half sad, and changed the topic. But considering he had probably lost family in April, I felt awful. Just so, so awful.
So there is the compilation of my dumbest moments in Africa so far. I was brutally honest and I hope you don’t judge me too much. I made some small mistakes and some huge mistakes. But I always knew right after that I had made a mistake. And I have learned from them.
4. Laughing at Gisozi: We’d already been to so many memorials and we’re only human. We went to the national genocide museum, which also happens to be the memorial site for all of the people who died in Kigali during the genocide. My friend was having a mental freakout about something ridiculous that had happened on the bus ride over and we were making fun of her. We were laughing. People were mourning about 20 yards away from us. We were stupid and we stopped the second we realized. But I still feel bad about it.
3. Yelling and a Kid: This kid came up to us selling peanuts. My friend and I bought some, even though we knew they were slightly overpriced. But the kid was polite, spoke great English, and didn’t bother us too much. As we walked away, a neighborhood woman greeted him cheerfully. Twenty seconds later, the kid came running back to us saying, “I am sorry. I forgot to tell you I am hungry. I need money. Please help me.” I don’t know what happened to me. It was the combination of the number of times kids have done this to me before, the knowledge that this woman had told him to do this even though he is clearly not wanting, and the culture of begging that adults are instilling in these kids – I just blew up. I gave a frustrated, aggressive, explosive shriek. “What are they teaching these kids!?!” I didn’t yell at the kid per se, but I yelled in his vicinity. He backed away from me, apologizing profusely. He gave me the look you would give an unstable person having an episode. I calmed down and apologized right away. But I still feel like shit when I think about it.
2. Public discussion of the genocide: I was in a public internet café when my friend leaned over and softly read me an email about a prominent post-genocide figure. I responded by telling her what this figure had said in an interview I had read. Basically, I loudly and publicly declared that this famous person denied that it was a genocide of the Tutsis and insinuated it was actually a genocide of Hutus. The problem is not that I talked about this person. The problem is that 1) I used the ethnic terms, which no one really discusses anymore; and 2) that I even said the phrases “not a Tutsi genocide,” “genocide against Hutus.” The people in the internet café had complete right to hate me and try to kick me out. That I even dared to talk about their lives in such an easy way, in public no less. No one seemed horribly upset but I could tell people definitely noticed. I was a fool and so unaware of my surroundings.
1. April Birthdays: The genocide began in April. The majority of the people died in April and at the beginning of May. All of the major massacres happened in April and any family member I know of who died, died in April. So my brother Confiance and I are visiting my brother-in-law Darius. My brother is asking questions to get to know me. He asks me when my birthday is and I tell him April 8. Darius tells me his birthday is in April too. April 12th. Confiance’s birthday is also in April, April 24. I love people with April birthdays. And me being me, I forgot that I was in Rwanda and said the dumbest, worst thing I have ever said. “April is the best month, isn’t it!” Right after the words came out of my mouth I realized what I said. I actually buried my head in my hands. Darius was sweet about it. He ruefully replied, “Well, not in Rwanda.” He knew I knew I had made a mistake so it wasn’t too bad. I apologized and he just nodded his head half amused, half sad, and changed the topic. But considering he had probably lost family in April, I felt awful. Just so, so awful.
So there is the compilation of my dumbest moments in Africa so far. I was brutally honest and I hope you don’t judge me too much. I made some small mistakes and some huge mistakes. But I always knew right after that I had made a mistake. And I have learned from them.
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