RWANDA
Trip Start
Jul 14, 2007
1
7
12
Trip End
Ongoing
KIGALI,
Rwanda
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
We actually were overloaded with two in the front passenger seat and four in the back.It transpired that two of them were returning to a broken down car a few miles into Rwanda,and so had been squeezed in as a favour.(I SUPPOSE I WAS ORIGINALLY INTENDED TO PAY THEIR FARE).The road was smoothly tarmacked and we rolled downhill through lush countryside with valley views to our left hand side throughout a journey of about two hours.(SHAME I WAS ON THE RIGHT SIDE...EXCUSE MY TOURIST STROP) One couldn't help but stare at the many farmers,male and female,with pangas in hand as they worked in the fields or walked the roadside,reminding one of the horrible use to which these sharp blades were put during the genocide of 1994
BISOKE
.However,the many smiling faces were an obvious signal that times were now better here.
In Kigali,I persuaded the driver to drop me in the centre of the city,on the hill,near to the main post office,instead of at the bus station below.It was difficult to get my bearings,but I commandeered a taxi to take me to the Kigali Hotel.It transpired that my pronunciation was making it difficult for the local people to understand where I wanted to go.Most of them pronounce the capital's name as Chigali(although I later met Rwandans who swear the opposite),and I will now forever refer to it as Chigley,(after the 1970's children's television rival to Camberwick Green).
The hotel turned out to have satellite TV in the rooms,incorporating both East African systems of GSPORTS and DSTV with it's Supersports channels among many others,and proved a Godsend in the week in which England had two vital international football qualifiers.
The first thing I did once I had settled in to the hotel was to commandeer a motorbike taxi to take me to the Genocide museum.This method of travel was my favourite in my time in Africa.At least here in Rwanda,it was compulsory for the drivers to provide crash helmets,unlike in Uganda.But it wasn't the fear of crashing that made me pleased about that,but rather the benefit of the visor that prevented dust getting in my eyes,something that can play havoc with contact lenses.We drove down the very steep streets of "Chigley",in our green painted helmets,me hanging onto the back of the seat to avoid being thrown off behind by the gradient.It was worse on the way back,going uphill with the steep road behind your hanging buttocks
CHILDREN PLAY ON A WOODEN MOTORBIKE NEAR KIVU
. At the museum,a sombre procession of friends of some of the deceased was making it's way across the courtyard,bearing a wreath,watched over by the security guards,all of whom were former Tutsi rebel soldiers from the RPF,who liberated the country from the murderous Hutus,and were dressed in military uniform.I had to halt suddenly as I came down the entrance steps,to prevent stumbling across the path of these mourners,hidden below me until the last moment.I waited a while for them to continue into the building,before following slowly on.Clearly this site was seen as a shrine as well as a museum.A brief investigation revealed the mass graves around the perimeter and in the museum garden.One or two misty eyed Rwandans wandered sadly around.I entered the door from which they had come into the afternoon sunshine.
In the room were perhaps 80 Rwandans,filling every chair as they viewed a series of graphic videos recorded during the genocide.Only some were in English,but the message was clear,and the traumatic effect it had on the audience was troubling,even 13 years after their national tragedy.
I was later to visit the Hutu army base in which members of the Belgian UN force were murdered.
And in the countryside I visited two massacre sites,where skulls and bones were on open display,often among the ruins of the buildings in which these people had been slaughtered
GAMEKEEPER SEARCHING FOR GORILLA POACHERS/BISOKE
.On my last day,I tried to find the French school where hundreds of Tutsi were abandoned to their fate by withdrawing UN as machete wielding Hutu surrounded them outside.In desperation,these Tutsi people had begged the UN to shoot them to escape a worse fate.Eventually,I found the likely site,but the people wanted to deny all knowledge.As I left,a surly man in a field next door gave me a menacing look that suggested,according to my driver,that some people were less than sorry about the genocide.Others just find it painful to remember.
This part of Rwanda still appeared the most civilised.In the west,on the shores of Lake Kivu,the people were much more likely to hassle the white man,usually with good humour,but still with a complexion of reverse racism,where you are singled out with cries of "muzungu" everywhere you go,and presumed to be a sugar daddy or your own personal charitable organisation.
The southern end of the lake,especially,was a beautiful spot,however,with fine close views of the moutains and even border towns of DR Congo,which is still suffering civil war of it's own.The bus ride north was an endurance test,with many forced to stand and much humour aimed at the white man,but I had a lake-side seat(lesson learned from day one in Rwanda) and we passed through some fine woods,banana and tea plantations,as we curved and twisted on hilly roads,often high over the lake,on a treacherous surface.At one point,the whole bus let out a great cheer as we managed to struggle up a notorious steep bit.
Village stops caused great chaos as people had to fight through the masses to get on and off,while local women stood with bunches of bananas draped over their head,trying to make a quick sale in their one great marketing opportunity of the day.Much haggling took place through steaming windows over the price.I marvelled at the innocence of some of the village women who went to so much trouble to fill buckets at break neck speed,and looked so pleased to have sold just a little of their produce.My thoughts turned to Europe,and how different the values are there.I hope they prosper here on the shores of Lake Kivu,but also that they retain their joie de vivre.It would be nicer still if one day a white man can blend into their midst without a second's thought,but their attitude was born of lack of experience in meeting foreigners and not malice
GENOCIDE
.I finished my visit to Rwanda climbing volcanoes in the Ruhengeri region made famous by Dian Fossy,and "Gorillas in the Mist".It was wonderful to experience the mountainous rainforest environment,but for some things the price is too high.
Nowhere in my experience have I ever paid $500 for a few hours pleasure,so I ignored the conservation issues,reminded myself of Africa's disdainful attitude of viewing white men as meal tickets,and abstained from the party.I did climb one of the volcanoes,for a lot less money,all alone except for a guide and three armed soldiers as escort,and we did see gorilla poo on the ground(have you ever known such a fuss to be made over excrement),and hear some gorillas as we passed an experimental colony.But if any had come into view,I guess I would have been instantly blindfolded and prevented from seeing them,..because I had not paid,...and that is the Law.
How would I have explained this indulgence to the bank manager?
What do you say to the wife when she wants a new fur coat? Could one hour of seeing a rare animal really have justified this expense,or was I the only person present with less money than sense?
See you at London Zoo.If you can afford the ticket!
