Final thoughts on Rwanda; Re-entry into Tanzania

Hi everyone,

First I'd like to share a few final thoughts on our visit to Rwanda.

In addition to historical information and photos about the country's colonial period and events leading to the genocide, the museum in Kigali contains gruesome memorabilia: Photographs of the carnage, display cases of clothes found on victims' bodies (washed and suspended as they would've been worn), displays of recovered bones, and portraits of many of the dead, including an entire room dedicated to the lost children, who "should have been our future."

Part of the top floor of the museum is dedicated to education about other genocides, past and ongoing: Jews during WW II, Serbs and Croats, Armenians, the peoples of Namibia, Darfur, and others.

Later I saw t-shirts for sale in the museum gift shop with a new take on the quote "Those who forget the lessons of history are condemned to repeat them. " Their logos read "Those who forget the lessons of Rwanda ( written above "history" which was crossed out) are condemned to repeat them in Darfur" (added at the end of the quote).

Outside, the beautiful park-like setting and cemetery of mass graves provides a peaceful place for visitors to reflect. When I rejoined the boys later (they had taken a tour conducted in their native language), Sondra was sitting on a bench with his head in his hands. "I never want to come back here", he said.

In our search for how to best help him and Eric, Dave and I also connected with the Rwandan national directors for both Rwanda and Kenya of the Christian organization World Relief. Celestin and Jean Paul, also genocide survivors who lost many family members and friends, know each other well and offered further insight into the complexities of rebuilding the country. (By the way, World Relief has a website and offers opportunities for volunteers.)

We left Rwanda by bus to return to Tanzania and once again rode through gorgeous scenery of green rolling hills and small villages. It haunted me to think that the genocide had happened everywhere we passed.

Next Dave and I traveled by train for 3 days and 2 nights across all of Tanzania to Dar es Salaam on the coast. It was a memorable trip in a lot of ways - most notably the long delays - but also a great chance to see how average Africans live and travel. Definitely not the Africa seen by most tourists! As the only non-blacks on the train (until a Chinese couple got on a day later) we were a definite curiosity. People wanted to know who we were and why we weren't flying. Good question, I thought a couple of times myself, especially at one point when the run-down train came to a halt for no apparent reason.

During what turned out to be a 6 hour wait, I sought out other new friends from Rwanda further back in the train. I got a French translation for the Swahili explanation given over the loud speaker for the problem: Broken tracks that needed to be repaired! Laetetia from Kigali and I had met on the bus earlier that day after crossing the border into Tanzania from Rwanda near the dramatic Rusomo Falls intersection of the two countries. I had asked her for information (in English) about train schedules since Dave knew from reading our Lonely Planet guidebook that the trains ran somewhat infrequently. Laetetia had said she spoke French but not English so we struck up a conversation in French. I later learned that she and several women friends were also en route to Dar es Salaam where they planned to investigate small business opportunities for themselves. "It's impossible to save for the future when you only make a hundred dollars a month," she said. The women were exploring micro-enterprise and other opportunities for exporting women's hand-made clothing to foreign places. I wished them the best and said I'd be happy to help if I could as a U.S. contact.
On the train we also met another wonderful and intelligent Rwandan named George (wearing a "George of the Jungle" t-shirt!). He had learned to speak good English in Uganda after escaping the genocide. Now at 27 , he, too, was seeking better job opportunities in Tanzania, perhaps work in the tanzanite mines. His education (like that of so many others) had been interrupted during the war and he had been unable to return to school for lack of funds.

This seems to be a recurring problem throughout the world.

Even public secondary schools in many countries require tuition payment and uniforms. Though the amounts are small by US standards, they present insurmountable odds to often large families(or orphans) living on less than a hundred dollars a month. In Rwanda as of November, bank loans for university students have begun to be available for the first time. But that still doesn't help anyone who hasn't yet completed high school. I know firsthand that education is key to upward economic mobility. Without a degree, especially in developing countries rife with complex political problems and fewer economic (and other) opportunities, the cycle of generational poverty continues, sometimes resulting in despair and crime.

I mention this because later in Zanzibar, I was the victim of a major theft by someone who had turned to drugs and theft as a recourse to his probably pathetic life. At least that thought has helped me deal with my stolen bag containing my passport, a considerable amount of cash, my new Canon 5D professional digital camera and 28-105 mm lens, 3 memory cards full of photos taken from Rwanda onward, my eyeglasses, my travel journal, and all my cosmetics!

To be continued...