Leaving Rwanda
Well, it’s that time again. I’ve been wearing the same dusty jeans for much of the last two weeks, I’m sick of every single item on the room service menu, the mini-bar is crying for mercy, weird insect bites are covering my limbs and I sorely miss US television (THANKS FOR NOTHING NON-INTERNATIONAL HULU!) Also, my head is so packed with stuff I need to find the time to sit and write that I live in a near-constant panic it will all pour out of my ear one night during my sleep.
Yes, it’s time for me to head back to San Francisco for a few weeks, and as I write this I’m 24 hours into the trip home with about six more to go. I smell absolutely horrible, for the record. Mr. Lacy is asleep on my shoulder. I’m on my second glass of wine and watching “Last Chance Harvey” which is one of the more depressing movies I’ve seen on a plane, and yet, reminds me how petty our worries typically are as Americans.
Rwanda has been amazing. It’s my second trip here this year, and it was somehow more challenging and inspiring than the first. And that’s one of the more unoriginal statements I’ve ever uttered. If I had to break it down into percentages, the impact of Rwanda is 75% the people of the country, 10% the gorgeous setting, 10% the impressive job the government has done turning aid into sustainable economic development and 5% watching some of the most successful and powerful people from the West take in that other 95% and be immeasurably affected by it.
In the last two weeks my experiences have vacillated between hanging out with wealthy, powerful or well-known Americans doing work in the country and some of the poorest Rwandans just getting by. And guess what? Everyone would grant that the Rwandans display the most hope and resilience of the two groups. The Americans I know who have spent any time in the tiny, landlocked country are humbled by the Rwandan experience and spirit and can't wait to go back. There’s something magical about the country that brings together people in ways that just wouldn’t happen elsewhere.
Here’s an example: At a dinner party last week in the volcano park where the endangered silverback gorillas roam, we were sitting near Jungle Jack Hanna—my all-time favorite David Letterman guest—and, believe it or not, the decedents of the Von Trapp family who sang several songs from "The Sound of Music"-- one of my favorite movies of all time. But the spotlight belonged to a guy named Frederick, a Rwandan who was left to die when he refused to kill Tutsis back in a time of post-genocide uprisings and scattered violence in 1998. Guerrilla fighters cut off his hands and left him tied to a tree. By a fluke, the ropes were tied so tight, it worked like a tourniquet saving three-quarters of his arms and his life. He now works with orphaned children in Rwanda. He also plays the guitar and paints with no hands. This is the Rwandan spirit: It doesn’t want special favors or handouts. They just want a chance to compete and rebuild their country.
Here’s the wackiest part of that aforementioned dinner: We didn’t know any of these people before it began. We just happened to be at the same hotel, and Hanna invited us to join the group when we exchanged pleasantries at the bar. Somehow, that’s just what happens in Rwanda.
Below are some pictures of my trip and check out my TechCrunch posts about it here. (Working on another one as we speak, jet lag permitting.) I’m saving the bulk for my book though, sorry!
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Sarah,
I can only imagine how this experience has changed your life. I've seen many documentaries and movies on the Rwanda Genocide of the late 90's and I'm amazed that the people of that country are still pushing forward. We take so many of our basic rights for granted and need to realize how good we really have it. Thanks for the photos and I hope you get some sleep.
Derek
Posted by: Derek Overbey | June 22, 2009 at 02:52 PM
I've been to Rwanda. My photos are still in the archives of my blog:
http://blog.stealthmode.com/2005/03/03/flowers-on-the-mass-graves/
http://blog.stealthmode.com/2005/03/03/momma-gorilla-and-her-baby/
And here's what I thought, in March 2005
t's so sad to realize I'm in Kigali International Airport on the way
home from Africa. On balance, I think I was drawn as much to Rwanda
as to Uganda in the end.
I was able to overcome the hotel without (hot)water and electricity,
the absolutely miserable food, and the inevitable dust because
Rwanda, like Uganda, can teach us so much about the power of family,
community, and the human spirit.
After driving through some of the most beautiful farmland I have ever
seen, all of it terraced and under cultivation because the country is
densely populated and small in area, we entered the capital city of
Kigali.
You can see the influence foreign aid ( let's call it guilt) from the
developing nations has had on Kigali: there's lots of new
construction, both commercial and residential. We went immediately
to the Genocide Museum, which was (of course) financed by the Belgian
Goverment and the Clinton Foundation among others.
The Belgians were the colonial power that promoted the differences
between Hutus and Tutsis in the first place, issuing identity cards
in 1932 that demarcated them by caste. Tutsis were taller, so the
Catholic colonial government thought they would make better leaders.
Unfortunately, they were a minority, and didn't fare too well after
Rwanda gained independence in 1962.
It was a pretty big mess even before the 1994 genocide, but when a
million Tutsis were murdered in 100 days --with little interference
from Kofi Annan OR Bill Clinton--we hit a new low in civilization.
The Museum showed us mass graves, faces of slaughtered children,
videos of tortured survivors, and memorial gardens all at once.
Every one of us emerged crying. No wonder Bill Clinton has financed
this memorial. I think of him as a very compassionate person, and I
suspect he was just too new on the job to understand what was really
happening in a little country so far away. In 1994 in America it was
still "the economy, stupid."
If you have not seen " Hotel Rwanda,"you must. It is based on the
true story of the Hotel Mille de Collines in Kigali, whose manager
savewd 1000 people by hiding them inside the hotel. Paul Rusesabegina
was (and still is) a Hutu married to a Tutsi, a hero to his people.
As a people, Americans have traditionally turned a blind eye on
events in Asia and Africa until they hit us in the face. After all,
pre-Internet they were pretty far away unless you like big animals or
fine rugs.Asia now has our attention because of its growing economic
power and its ability to make nuclear weapons. Africa will get our
attention, too, and I just wonder how that will happen. I know that
it will, because I sat next to many young people in Internet cafes
across the countries I visited who were writing letters to friends
across the world. The message is getting out.
Posted by: Francine Hardaway | June 22, 2009 at 03:06 PM
thanks for the note and great to hear from you francine!! i hope you can go back sometime. it's changed immeasurably even since 2005. i even had hot water! ;) also, much of the country has cell phone access, electricity, shoes, fresh water and paved roads. as far as the food- i've heard that President Kagame himself occasionally does surprise health-inspections at restaurants! i can't wait to go back once all that fiber optic cable is trenched! it took me all day to upload the baboon video!
Posted by: sarah lacy | June 22, 2009 at 03:18 PM
Those pictures are beautiful - I'm leaving in a week to Kigali for about 15 days. Sounds like the comment above me (from Francine) draw a lot from Gourevitch's book (which I'm sure you've read). One of the most interesting accounts of history I've ever come across.
Looking forward to reading all about Rwanda in your next book, I'll be sure to share my experiences with you when I return.
Glad you're back in the States, and (I'm sure you know already) the Giants swept the A's while you were gone! Woot! Tell Geoff I said hi :)
Posted by: Sam Purtill | June 22, 2009 at 04:43 PM