Adjusting to life at Discover Rwanda Youth Hostel was fun. We all met and interacted with so many interesting people from all different places. All the perspectives and travel tips will definitely be taken to heart. It was nice to be able to talk to people in English, but not have them be American. Being somewhere foreign has really helped me appreciate fast, easy communication.
Our first full day was spent in the Kigali Genocide Memorial. We all felt like we should immerse ourselves in the history before we explored the modern city. Insight was definitely acquired. The memorial starts out by giving the general history then brings in the survivor testimonies, pictures of those lost, bones found in the area, an exhibit devoted to specific child cases and another informing us of other genocides that have taken places around the world. One of the hardest parts for me was seeing the walls filled with pictures. The difference between hearing a number and then seeing the actual faces of those who had their lives taken from them is powerful. I look at the pictures and I see lives; I see the lives they might have had; I think of their families, their hopes, their dreams. More than my brain can comprehend has been lost, but, somehow, the people here are still surviving. There isn’t a person in Rwanda who has not been affected by the genocide, yet, they are moving forward. Their hope for the future is inspiring. If they can continue on, anyone can.
The memorials on the second day were different from the first in that they were simply preserved churches in which the people sought refuge and then were killed. Around 10,000 people were killed in the first church. I have no idea how that many people fit inside. As I walked in I was immediately overwhelmed by the energy. It sounds crazy, but I swear I felt the people. Our group was the only one touring at the time but the air felt so crowded and heavy—filled with death and sadness. One whole side of the church was damaged by bullet holes. After the soldiers destroyed the door with a grenade the just fired into the building. I still have trouble comprehending the fact that I was standing where all of those people were killed.
Downstairs there were skulls displayed and a white coffin containing the body of a woman who suffered more than I can imagine They said that she was raped twenty times and then had a stake shoved through her vertically and then another through her chest. That was a pretty typical form of torture for women. I feel directly affected by events like that simply because I am female. My mind cannot understand some of the evils that are done to people in general but especially to women and children. Life is too precious to destroy.
The second church contained much of the same. There were more buildings but it was the same situation–the people had come to seek shelter and were then killed. Children were often burned alive or smashed against walls. The Sunday school room contained the remains of that. A section on one wall was stained completely. I do not know what would ever possess someone to pick up a baby and smash it into a wall. I understand that psychologically people can be made to do just about anything, but I hope that such extreme cases can be eliminated through further education.
Our guide there was a survivor of the genocide. He was nineteen at the time–a year older than me–and he told us that he fled home and hid in the swamps for two weeks to save himself. In his case, safety would not come in numbers. Some of his family probably sought refuge in the church at which he was a guide. After hearing his story it made me want to ask everyone I met about how they had been affected. That’s not the sort of question one can ask, though. Perhaps telling the world more about what happened would help them find closure. The world just has to be willing to listen.
That night we took a break from history and deep thoughts and immersed ourselves in music. A reggae band was playing at a local night club so many of us spent the night getting caught up in the rhythms and melodies, dancing in whichever ways our souls took us. It was great to have a bit of fun and also to see a different side of Kigali. The juxtaposition of intense history and westernized city is still difficult to grasp, but I think we all still had fun. Despite what our friends at the hostel say, it is possible to enjoy yourself without the use of alcohol.
The last memorial we went to, the Genocide Memorial of Murambi was similar to the one in Kigali in that it gave us the historical background but different in terms of physical evidence. There had been a school located in Murambi where around 50,000 people hoped to be safe. They weren’t. The soldiers came in with machetes, clubs with and without attached nails, hoes, and axes and killed everyone within a span of two days. Two days. 50,000 people dead. Fourteen known survivors. After the slaughter the bodies were bulldozed into mass graves and left.
When the mass graves were discovered and the decomposed bodies transported into more formal graves they also came across some bodies that had not decomposed simply due to the lack of oxygen as so many bodies were crammed into small places. These preserved bodies were covered with lime and put on display in many of the classrooms in the school buildings. Although I must say that I was expecting actual bodies, they were still incredibly powerful. The looked like skeletons really, but you could see the occasional face which made it all the more real. It gave us a view of the actual people. We could see the cracked skulls, broken legs, severed arms, smashed children and more. We viewed six rooms in total and the one devoted to children was by far the hardest for me. Seeing the crushed body of a baby with hands the size of quarters was truly devastating. I still cannot understand how a person kills a child or baby.
Taking in all the perspectives in situations like these is also hard. We automatically feel disgust towards those who killed but if you look at all of the psychological experiments it is very easy to see how people can become brainwashed and completely wrapped up in a given role or in conformity. While exploring Rwanda were were not simply seeing victims. We were seeing killers as well. One wonders how they feel. Do they regret their actions? Did they even realize what they were doing? Is their still tension? Many questions are left unanswered.
As I have mentioned, there is so much hope for and in Rwanda. Men and women who suffered and survived the genocide still smile at us as we walk down the street. With luck the children and young adults know enough and have been affected enough to prevent something like this from happening again. Rwanda cannot do this alone, though, and they don’t necessarily need us funneling money into their system for modernization. The world needs to recognize the horrors that Rwandans and countless other people have suffered and are suffering around the world. Only then can we achieve “never again.”
“There will be no humanity without forgiveness.
There will be no forgiveness without justice.
But there will be no justice without humanity.”
—Yolande Mukagasana
There will be no forgiveness without justice.
But there will be no justice without humanity.”
—Yolande Mukagasana
(Again, the majority of this blog was taken from a post I wrote while in country.)
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