Gaining New Perspective

Another choice pickup line from a boda man today, “Madam I have been waiting for you.” To all you boys reading my blog: you better step up your game when I get home.

The bad and the ugly: I spotted an NC State shirt and a Duke shirt this weekend. The State t-shirt was being sported by a boy in Nzizi and the Duke shirt was worn by a man in Kigali. This only solidifies my theory that people are embarrassed to go to these schools. People give the shirts away because they are ashamed to be seen wearing them. Then the shirts end up in developing countries. I haven’t seen a UNC shirt yet. Take that, dookies.

Rwanda: a stressful trip, but well worth it. The journey included an 8 hour bus trip from Nnyendo (the town right outside Masaka) to Kigali, a 3 hour bus to and from Gisenyi, and the 8 hour bus ride home to Masaka. It was a lot of transportation for a Saturday-Tuesday trip but I would make the same decision to go a thousand times over.

Kigali: I wanted to wait until I saw another African capital before passing full judgement on Kampala. Now that I’ve seen Kigali, I feel comfortable saying that Kampala is certainly not my favorite city. Compared to Kigali it’s dirty, crowded, and really rather ugly. I could actually picture myself living in Kigali. The French helps; I really enjoyed being able to speak French again. Kigali, at least the part we were in, was clean, open, and friendly. Rwandans in general are extremely friendly. I found no need for maps because if I asked people where a hotel or a bank was, they would lead me there themselves (Not that a map would EVER help me in Kampala). The people seem well adjusted to mzungus; they don’t stare or call out when we walk by. That’s probably because there are A MILLION of them around. I actually ran into my friend Sarah in a shopping mall in the city center. Unlike the other group of girls from Chapel Hill, I had absolutely NO idea that she was even in Africa, let alone Kigali. We found a neat little mzungu hang out called Bourbon Coffee. I had the most incredible muffin of my life here. This may be because it was the first non dry baked good I’ve had in 7 weeks, but I still think it could make top 5 in the States. I also had a fabulous chapatti vegetable wrap. I’m honestly not sure what I’m going to do without chapatti when I get back home. I’m making it my mission to learn how to make them when I get back. 

View of Kigali from the Genocide Memorial


Gisenyi: a town on the border of the DR Congo, about three hours from Kigali. My French was really put to the test here, as no one at the Auberge de Gisenyi (our $6/night hotel) spoke any English. It’s amazing how easily it comes back. I hope my Italian doesn’t go down the drain because of all this French. I dipped my toes in Lake Kivu, APPARENTLY one of the deepest lakes in the world. (You may want to check that claim.)

Hotel des Mille Collines: The real “Hotel Rwanda,” probably as close to a 5 star hotel as I've seen here, has a gorgeous bar and pool area where we stopped for a drink. Afterward, we wandered up to the top floor for a beautiful view of Kigali. It was nearly impossible to picture people hiding out there during the genocide.

The Genocide Memorial: haunting, eye-opening, shocking, moving, horrifying… People who have been to both compare it to the Holocaust museum in DC. Before coming to Africa, I really didn’t know much about it. I didn’t realize how much (or how little, depending on how you look at it) of a role the international community played in the tragedy. The UN had all the information it needed to stop the slaughter of 1 million innocent men, women, and children, but it did precious little. The memorial was very well done; it started out with a brief description of Rwandan culture, tradition, and history and went into warning signs. It takes you through the genocide, its effects, and lasting impacts. The next section covers other genocides such as the Holocaust and the Balkans. Finally, the memorial takes you to the children’s room. Thousands and thousands of children were murdered in the genocide and the last part of the memorial shows large photographs of a few of the victims, their names, favorite drinks or foods, favorite toys, and finally, how they were killed- hacked with a machete, shot in the head, thrown in a latrine… I didn’t see many people walk out of that room with dry eyes.