views on the genocide

5/13/2010



I remember having a conversation with Sr. Rose today about the genocide. I have always been under the impression that Rwanda has made incredible progress in these 16 years. There are televised memorial services, there is a week-long national memorial period, each district has its own cemetery/memorial grounds, people wear purple livestrong bracelets advocating “Never Again,” the slogan posted all around on purple banners, and I’ve found that people talk about it without my bringing it up. I’ve been pleasantly surprised, thankfully. I have never witnessed any forms of ethnic hatred or even any kind of division…everybody just looks Rwandan to me.

Well, Sr. Rose reminded me that I am an outsider. Of course everything looks a-ok because everybody is really nice to me. Hutu and Tutsi alike want to talk to the Muzungus and show them Rwandan hospitality. But in the neighborhoods, behind-the-scenes, it’s a different story. She said that the government has tried erasing ethnic lines. They’re trying to erase history such that there is no Hutu or Tutsi. “We are all one family. We are all Rwandan,” said President Paul Kagame. This is certainly a good mindset, but the problem is that people still know each other. Families know whether their next door neighbors are Hutu or Tutsi. Kids know which ethnic group their classmates belong to, even though the ethnic role call was banned long ago. People still hold grudges deep within because they know that so-and-so is a Hutu, and therefore they killed so-and-so of my family, even though they may not have been directly responsible.

Sr. Rose said that the tension is building beneath this surface appearance that I perceive. She also said that it is perfectly acceptable for a Tutsi to cry aloud and wail in public at memorial services. This is normal because Tutsis were the ones who were slaughtered. But, Hutus also lost many people in the cross-violence, plus, many moderate Hutus who were not blatant Tutsi-haters were killed for being apathetic. But, if a Hutu were to cry aloud, the people, knowing that this person is a Hutu simply by association and family ties, would completely shun them. It would be completely unacceptable for a Hutu to show their grief. So, they are holding it all inside because they have no outlet. Again, the tension builds.

I sure hope that the surface ok-ness that I saw will perfuse deeper and deeper into the ethnic structure of Rwanda. If anything, it seems that acknowledging the presence of the two ethnic groups living and working in harmony as “one family,” as Rwandans, would be a good thing. Let’s all hope and pray that the elections coming up in August 2010 will be peaceful, and that the next president will work towards true healing of the nation.

wine at the bishop's

Towards the end of my mission, I had been in Kigali for some reason…I think I was on my way back to Gisenyi from Kibeho. I rode with Sr. Lumiere, who was driving. We had a really fun journey – she’s one of those people who asks good questions and gives really energetic and detailed responses when you ask her a good question. So we had been happily chatting, and we soon approached Gisenyi. She all of a sudden says, “I wonder if Monseigneur is home. It had been a very long time since we last spoke. I think I should greet him.” I asked for a bit more clarification, and she said that the bishop of Nyundo (the diocese that Gisenyi is part of) knows her very well since she was one of the original Sisters who started up the mission in Gisenyi back in 2001, before the Sisters even broke ground to build the school that I currently work in. She felt that it was only right to stop in and say hi to him, since he is such a good friend of the Sisters, and it has been such a long time. Well, she calls him up, and he of course is overjoyed to hear that she’s in the area, and of course she should stop by!


So, up we go. The cathedral is waaaay up this hill, and the bishop’s residence is also there. Its super rocky, uneven, and twisty-turney. But we finally made it. I got to poke my head inside the cathedral, which was actually on my list of places to see before I go home. It looks a lot like Muhato – long rows of benches instead of pews, colored flags hanging on the walls and across the aisles, very high ceilings with colored glass windows at the peaks. We then walked around aimlessly for a few minutes trying to find which door was the door the the bishop’s house. We eventually found him, and he welcomed us into his sitting room, where he was visiting with another priest.

Bishop Alexi Habyarimana is perfectly Rwandan – very jolly, very welcoming, and bubbling over with smiles and happiness. He’s a very big man, and I had never met a bishop before. I wasn’t sure how you’re supposed to greet a bishop…I think you normally kiss his ring, if he is in the full bishop vesture. But he was just in casual dress, and I followed Sr. Lumiere’s lead. She gave him a big hug, so I greeted him in the same manner – it felt as if I had also known him for years and was seeing him again after a long time, just like Sr. Lumiere! He offered me some wine, but I was really hoping he’d ask Sr. Lumiere first what she’d have so that I could just accept whatever she took. But wine is pretty fancy…I’ve only had it on a few occasions…but, this was the bishop’s house, so I guess this is a special occasion just by circumstance…what to say, what to say…as I deliberated, he caught my indecision. He was speaking a mixture of French and English with me, it was obvious that his English was quite good, and he persuaded me to have some wine. So I caved and accepted. The only kind of wine I’ve ever had in Rwanda is Drosdy-Hoff, a Franzia-like wine that comes in a box. That was what the bishop had, so he gave me an empty glass, placed the box on the little table in front of me, and told me to serve myself. The others proceeded with their conversation. Well, I had a bit of difficulty with the spout protruding from the box, but it eventually started releasing a small stream of wine into my glass. A very small stream. Little did I know, but the rest of this small stream was dripping out of this spout, around the outside of the box, onto the WHITE tablecloth. Fantastic! I’m soiling the bishop’s white linens!

Finally, Sr. Lumiere, the priest, and the bishop notice that I’m having trouble. I apologized like crazy for the damages, but he was so chipper and cheerful about the whole thing! He said “no problem, no problem, someone will come to clean it up.” And didn’t even get up out of his chair, just kind of brushed it off. Sr. Lumiere responded similarly by just laughing and saying “oh no, I see you are spilling,” and helped me fix the spout so it was fully out of the box (apparently that was the problem, it wasn’t pulled out far enough). Monseigneur gave me a new empty glass (mine had wine all around the outside of it too), and told me to have some more. I politely declined, stating that I can just finish what was in my original glass. Sr. Lumiere says, “You are traumatized? Have some more!” And of course, the bishop persuaded some more. So it was impossible to not have more wine! Oh Rwandan hospitality, how I love you.

After a few minutes, a cheerful, smiling nun came in with a bucket. She mopped up the wine mess that was on the table and floor, and took away the dirty white linen to wash it. You’d think she was coming in the room to pick up puppies she was so joyful! But no, just cleaning up the red wine mess I had made of the bishop’s white tablecloth. There’s something I never thought I’d do…