Two Stories, One Heart

Today we visited two more genocide memorials outside of Kigali, Ntarama and Nyamata. At each memorial we were able to hear a survivors testimony. Here are their stories.

Ntarama

Our guide was a very tall, skinny, and friendly man, probably around the age of 30; he showed us around and talked of the genocide without much of a problem. After our tour he told us that he himself was a survivor, he told us that this is part of his past and he’s not pessimistic about the future so he didn’t mind telling us his story.

            He lived in a town in the hills, and his town was one in the area that tried to fight and resist the Interahamwe. One day he had gone back to his house to clean up and change his clothes. It was lunchtime and he went out to the yard to tell his father that food was ready. The Interahamwe came then and shot his father in front of him. They shot at him too, but he was able to get away. He ran back to the hill where he discovered that his town’s resistance had fallen. He ran to the swamp nearby where he lived for 2 weeks, sneaking onto a plantation at night to get sweet potatoes and cabbage to eat. After the two weeks he decided he was going to go back up the hill where he might be able to get some information on what was going on. He stayed up there for two weeks and was eventually rescued by the RPF.

            He told us that he had left out a lot of details of his story, but said that it was horrible. I’m amazed that he was able to talk about it so freely. He had forgiven the killers. Forgiven the men who murdered his family. The men who forced him to live in a swamp for two weeks. The men who had deprived him of his childhood. Forgiven. I have a lot of respect for the survivors and even more for the ones who want people to know of their experiences so this will never happen again.

Nyamata

            The first thing we saw when we entered this second church was piles of dirty, burned, and destroyed clothes on the pews. When you looked up you saw a statue of the Virgin Mary overlooking the scene in near perfect condition. On the other side of the room was an older woman cleaning the floor around the piles of clothes. Our teacher, Pastor Anastase, greeted her warmly speaking softly in Kinyarwanda. After we concluded our tour Pastor Anastase informed us that this woman was willing to tell us her story. We waited patiently for her to get done her work then we drove to a field somewhere in order to hear her testimony. She didn’t want to tell us in a public place because if people saw her talking to us they might have robbed her or burned her house. Standing in a circle Saraphina began telling her story with Pastor translating.

            She told us of how the people in her area were very peaceful before 1994; they were a true community and disregarded the rumors of a genocide coming. However after the president of Rwanda’s plane was shot down everything changed. Hutu in her town became violent so she fled to a nearby church with her husband and children. The church was packed, but the preacher there did his best to keep them safe until there were just too many of them so he told them they had to go to a nearby government building for safety. Once there her and her family were taken out to a field with hundreds of other terrified Tutsi. They knew that they still weren’t safe there so they fled to a nearby stadium. She later found out that all the people who stayed in the field were killed. The stadium was also packed far passed capacity, and the Interahamwe came. A woman who somehow knew Saraphina hid her and her family in a corner of the stadium for the night and in the morning they fled to another church. Here she watched as her husband was shot and killed. She said that she was unable to move, but for some reason the Interahamwe didn’t harm her or her children. They then fled down to the basement of the church where the other women and children were hiding. Saraphina watched as the people around her died from starvation and hopelessness, but eventually rescue came. The RPF found them and they were moved to a camp, but they still weren’t safe so they were moved again. In the second move, Saraphina was separated from her children. She went for two months without knowing the fate of her children. Finally someone brought two children to her. She said the children were as thin as skeletons and she couldn’t even tell for sure if they were actually hers. Luckily they were and they were able to make a full recovery.

            Again many details of her story were left out, but she wanted us to know that it was truly horrible. Even though she told her story in Kinyarwanda we could all feel her pain as she told of losing her husband and not knowing what happened to her children. Yet somehow she was able to forgive. It was heart wrenching to hear her talk about her experience and I was completely awestruck by her faith. She is a strong Christian woman who is relying on God to get her through each and every day. I would think that she would be furious at God for not stopping the genocide, instead she talked of her love for God and the hope she has. She is an amazing testament to what faith really is and I admire her for her courage and love. Thank you Saraphina, you are truly amazing.

Surfin' Safari

Well I can now check Safari off my bucket list! We woke up at 4am Friday morning and our caravan of 3 safari cars began the long 2 hour drive to Akagera Park. One of the cars got a flat tire on the way there so we all pulled over and got to hang out with some kids on their way to school while the tire was being fixed. We finally get to the park and the first thing we see are some zebras, you think these animals are cool now, just wait until you see them in the wild. Then we went in search of giraffes and we succeeded.
Our driver, John Paul aka Jumper, really liked to get us as close to the animals as possible so when we found the giraffes he went off the road toward them. Now since we've gotten to the park I've been sitting on top of the car right above the drivers seat and at this point Mikaela has joined me up front. So we're driving toward these giraffes when we notice a HUGE hole and we just start yelling "BIG HOLE BIG HOLE!!" next thing we know we bounce like 5 feet in the air and we're stuck. So another car has to come over and push us up out of the hole. Aside from a bruised butt and tailbone there were no injuries. So then we see all these other cool animals, see facebook for pictures, and after we see the hippos (my favorite by far) we head toward our campsite.
Now Mikaela and I are still sitting on top (this is a common theme) and we're just driving along this road when all of a sudden our car starts to go off the road. We hit this little tree/bush and I look up and we're headed straight for a bigger tree/bush. Without even thinking I roll off the top of the car right before we hit the tree, my camera goes flying into the grass, Mikaela bounces down the car on the other side holding on to her pillow and camera. I get up, find my camera, and walk around the car to see that our back tire has blown and is quickly deflating. Needless to say my only injuries were a few scratches on my leg and thigh, a bruise on my ankle, and a sore body from holding on to the car so hard. But now I have a sweet story about rolling off a safari car. So after we fix the tire we get back on the road and finally make it to our campsite.
At the campsite, Ryan and I are throwing a frisbee when we see a baboon walking by our camp. The baboon starts walking up toward the gazebo that everyone is in along with our food. It jumps up into the gazebo grabs some peanuts and cookies and runs out of the gazebo. The whole time it's doing this everyone in the gazebo is running out screaming. After it leaves the gazebo we all run over and watch as the lovely baboon eats the food it stole right in front of us.
This weekend has been quite an adventure and I'm now sufficiently burned, bruised, scraped, and sore. Totally worth it.

Sometimes in April

I've been trying to write a post about the Rwandan genocide since I got here and before today I didn't think I could do it justice. I still don't think I can do it justice, but I feel like I have a better understanding of the magnitude of what happened.

Today we visited a genocide memorial in Kigali, it was overwhelming to say the least. What these people went through only 18 years ago. As I tried to wrap my head around what happened I imagined myself in the place of one of the Tutsi. Imagine watching as your mother was raped and hacked with a machete, your father shot and left to die slowly, your siblings being tortured. That's just a glimpse of what some of these Rwandans faced. No matter how young, children weren't spared. In April 1994 I was a year and a half old, if I had been the child of a Tutsi or even a moderate Hutu I'd be dead. These children's lives were stopped before they even really started. Around 1 million people were brutally murdered in 100 days, that's about 10,000 people a day. Each with names, faces, personalities, plans, dreams, and families. They weren't that different from you and me, but because they were of a certain ethnicity they were hunted like animals.

Now at this point most people would come to a conclusion about how this has impacted them, but honestly it's not done impacting me. So I'm leaving you to process this just like I'm still processing. There's a lot to think about, a lot to learn, and a lot to be thankful for.

The unfinished wall of names at the memorial, over 250,000 bodies are buried here.

Welcome to Rwanda!

After over 24 hours of travel, we finally made it to Kigali. Exhausted and sleep deprived (at least I was), we landed in the small Kigali International Airport. Finally I was here, after months of anticipation. I immediately got my second wind. We then packed all of our luggage into a truck followed by ourselves and proceeded to drive to our new home for the next 4 months. After driving down the bumpiest road I've ever been on we came to a gate where we were let in and warmly greeted by the house staff. After a short house tour and meeting we went on a walking tour of the town. We definitely aren't in America anymore. Every person on the street just stared, one man even took a video of us as we walked by. Leah (our guide and house mom) gave us great tips and suggestions of fun things to do in town. I'm so excited for the opportunity to get to know the local people and to learn from them.

Unreadiness

2 things you should know about me:
1. I hate packing
2. I put the pro in procrastinator

So here I am the night before I leave for D.C. with nothing more than piles of clothes and a pharmacy that I'm hoping will all somehow fit into 2 bags (It'll take a miracle). People have been asking me if I'm "ready" for 2 weeks now and my answer has been no. Even if you ask me tomorrow on my way to D.C. if I'm "ready" my answer will still be no. If you ask me when I take my first step into Rwanda if I'm "ready" my answer will still be no. If you haven't gotten it by now, I'm not "ready" nor will I be "ready" anytime soon. Sure, I'll have everything that I need packed but I don't think anything could make me truly "ready" for this trip. Here's where being a procrastinator comes in handy. Sometimes having a plan and expectations is a bad thing (don't get me wrong those things are great 80% of the time) but we've all experienced times where things didn't go as planned and we thought we were "ready". So I'm happy (scared but happy) that I haven't prepared the way I probably should have. In my experience, the times when I wasn't "ready" were the times when I heard God the loudest. With how unready I am for this I should hear God loud and clear. I'm going to end this post with lyrics from a song that's really been hitting me hard the past few days: We Must Go by Tim Hughes

Jesus, You have called us
Freely we've received
Now freely we will give

We must go live to feed the hungry
Stand beside the broken, we must go
Stepping forward, keep us from just singing
Move us into action, we must go

Fill us up and send us out
Fill us up and send us out
Fill us up and send us out, Lord

Adrenaline Junkies Beware

Sometimes 7 days can feel like forever, other times it flies by. Right now, I'm torn because I want to spend time with my family and friends before I go to Rwanda, but I also can't wait to set foot in Africa. This next week is going to be full of packing, hanging out, sleep deprivation, excitement, nervousness, and finally tearful goodbyes. 4 months is a long time to be over 7000 miles away from friends and family and I'm starting to realize that as my trip gets closer. To be honest I am scared in the most excited way possible. It's like the first time you ride a roller coaster, half of your brain is telling you that you're insane and if something goes wrong you could fall out of this little harness and die, but the other half of your brain is cheering you on, telling you to defy gravity. You're scared of something going wrong, but excited for the chance to fly. If you stay in that line and ride that insane coaster you may have the time of your life, but if you get out of that line you could regret it, never feeling the rush of a great ride. Well I've ridden enough roller coasters to know that staying in line is always worth it. So in 7 days I'm getting on the most exciting roller coaster I've ever seen, and I know I'll never regret that decision.