Genocide Memorial

So here it is, the post (probably one of many) that everyone I’m sure is curious about in the twisted and totally understandably way that we as humans are: the Rwandan genocide and how it comes up in our lives here. Because of our delayed flight situation we only went to the genocide memorial in Kigali this weekend, after living 2 weeks in our host communities. This was good and bad because it meant that we now all had people who we knew well and could actively associate in the context of the information provided, making it harder and more effective. This wasn’t the first time the events of 1994 came up however. The training materials for Peace Corps Rwanda described the genocide as a constant grief that the country lives with and actively works through every day. I think that statement is completely accurate, before the trip to the memorial my host family mentioned the atrocities in several veiled ways. When describing to me how to use the chamber pot and why it’s essential to not leave the house at night, while telling me why Rwandan’s don’t go out after dark (there are very bad people here you know), when I asked why the word “umugome” (translated as a very bad person who would kill you) is always included in prayers, and while helping me practice the vocabulary for the family tree. The most telling experience, however, was the morning that I was the first of the family to wake up and had to unlock the back door because it showed me the pains that are taken to secure the house each night. There was a dead bolt and a key-lock at mid door, a sliding lock at the top and the bottom and a nail bent around as a barrier at top and bottom in addition to a chair leaned against the door in such a way that if I had forced it open from the outside it would have made a  sound like a booby trap. The front door, I realized, is similarly secured. I think that one experience was more telling than a family story could have been, there’s real fear there and in this place, with this history its hard to laugh it off as unnecessary. Despite the reconcilation efforts the adage of “fool me once…” has to apply.

            So while the genocide memorial was painful and overwhelming and I had a long hard cry at one point midway through when the tragedy and indecency of it all was really too much; I think we will learn a lot more from the subtle reminders in people’s everyday lives.

            On a lighter note I have to add that I absolutely love my fellow trainees because two of them suspected that I was going to have a rough time in the memorial and were keeping an eye on me to swoop in with a hug when the predicted hysterical tears did set in. You guys are the best.