Tutsis, Goodbye☹ (8/4)

Our friendly driver and local guide, Mike, greeted us with a big “Jambo,” at the Kigali, Rwanda airport. We embarked on a city tour, cruising the more affluent neighborhoods to get a birds-eye view of the beautiful setting for the capital of the “Land of 1000 Hills.” Rolling, terraced lush green hillsides dominate a landscape “mystified” by a very dusty and smoggy dry-season day.

The highlight of our tour was a visit to the Genocide Memorial Museum, a bone-chilling reminder of the twin evils of colonialism and ethnic hatred, where more than 290,000 victims are buried. I find it somewhat ironic that the song referred to by the tasteless pun that titles this posting was sung by a white man in black face, while the genocide in Rwanda was instigated by white colonialists. For those of you unfamiliar with the Rwandan genocide, indulge me in a little history lesson.

During three months in 1994, Hutu militiamen raped, pillaged, tortured, and slaughtered more than 1 million defenseless Tutsis in a barbaric episode of ethnic cleansing. Perhaps you have seen or read The Hotel Rwanda (we also visited the Hotel Des Mille Collines) and are somewhat familiar with the events. However, before visiting the museum and reading the powerful book, “We Regret to Inform You That Tomorrow We Will Be Killed With Our Families,” I had assumed that this was yet another civil war between ethnic tribes, with long histories of aggression. What I now understand is that Hutus and Tutsis had lived together peacefully in Rwanda forever until German and then Belgian colonialists created an ethnic divide, and granted power to the Tutsi minority, because their features were more European. Inevitably, the European-generated caste system created ethnic tensions which, through twists and turns, culminated in the massacre. Then, to add insult to injury, the French armed the murderers, while the US and UN dragged their feet and ignored crystal clear evidence of the worst genocide since the Holocaust. Anne and I walked away devastated and shocked, but impressed by the quality and effectiveness of the memorial and by the will and determination of the Rwandan people who have since built a united country.

After the museum, we headed up into the hills towards the Mountain Gorilla View Lodge in Musanze, our base for the next couple of days. We passed bikers speeding down the rolling hills, bikers pushing their two-wheelers laden with sugar cane, potatoes, bamboo, water, and building materials up the hill, small children playing in drainage ditches, and women delicately balancing 20kg sacks of potatoes on their heads while walking along the road. Following a quick lunch, our new guide, Alex, drove us into town where we climbed a hill for a scenic overlook of the city, a glimpse at a Kingfisher (bird, not beer), and an encounter with some local artists painting a rock formation. We descended and headed into the bustling fruit and vegetable market, where Anne and her Goldy Locks were a center of attention, attracting hugs from two small children, and smiles from countless others.