My Trip To Rwanda

Well, here you will get the whole story of my trip to Rwanda. I awoke to breakfast, earlier than I had expected. It's become my favorite part of the day.

July 14-July 20 2010
Trip to Rwanda

I awoke to breakfast, earlier than I had expected.
I was in bed early enough, and well rested, but we asked for a wake-up call. I was mistakenly called at 5 a.m. instead of 6. I lay in bed for another hour and almost slept…before I knew it the real call came from Floriane.
I went to the breakfast kitchen and I almost shouted Praise God out loud. I love when a country keeps its own identity and is able to provide comforts in their own way… This was indeed Africa. The windows and doors are left open for the views of the countryside…Rwanda is nothing but greenery, hills and trees. The dirt is deep red and brown. There’s lovely brickwork everywhere and colorful paint, blues, oranges and yellows.
At breakfast, we were served bread, cheese, pineapple and mango on the breakfast buffet. All the fruit is grown here and fresh. Later in the day we saw many huge Avocados hanging from a tree. Also for breakfast they asked me if I wanted an omelet. No, but I will take one anyway so as not to be rude! This is going to be a fattening trip indeed.

(I just saw my first mosquito in my room PANIC!) I’ll be bringing out the Deet in a few minutes.)

As I was enjoying my breakfast, the view and lovely Rwandan ambiance…Floriane had overslept, was in a hurry as apparently her friend was outside honking. So, I wasn’t able to enjoy the lovely morning breakfast for long.

We really did have things to do. I was going along with Floriane to her furniture maker…an old family friend. She had to give him a wad of money and work out more details so he could start building the furniture. She is a woman on a mission.
Emanuel, Floriane’s friend, was kindly driving us to Butera, Floriane’ s home town and the locale of the Furniture man. Emanuel lived in the U.S. for many years and returned to manage the Rwandan version of Starbucks and he had things to do. But the drive to Butera was two hours and Emanuel was a wealth of information on Rwandan history and culture and its people. I loved hearing about the people’s day to day lives.
National Pride: It appears Kigali and all of Rwanda, even the countryside, is experiencing an economic boom. This surprised me. I had expected to see dire poverty and desperation, even worse because of the genocide and now the world economic crisis. But instead, in every town I witnessed has new housing and new office buildings and shops and the people are out and about busying about their work day. Apparently refuges have returned with their fortunes after the wars and they are feeling optimistic and safe about investing their country. There are huge office buildings going up everywhere in Kigali, people hustling and bustling like there’s no tomorrow.

The government has laid down standards for the people and the people are complying willingly. Apparently corruption is not cool here and punished severely. In a country that is surrounded by bribe takers and used to be so itself, this is quite a feat. Government officials are punished swiftly and decisively. The nation is ranked among the least corrupt at this time. Many are in jail because they couldn’t leave their way of life. The new government has laid the law down. No Bribes. No Corruption. One government program gave cows to poor people. The idea was that the poor person would then give the cow’s baby to their poor neighbor. Well, it appeared a few high government officials had become one cow richer during the early part of this program. When it was found out, the whole lot was thrown in jail and more oversight on the program implemented. It’s still in play and is working to provide a resource for the poorest of the poor here.

National Pride: The government implemented a policy as simple as not littering. Apparently the country used to be very dirty and cluttered with garbage. Now, if someone throws garbage, food, anything out they are not only legally punished, but their neighbors ostracize them as well. The country side is so clean and the city and is a matter of great national pride. When we drove along the countryside early that morning, little old men and ladies with brooms could be seen sweeping the streets by hand. Yes, the dirt streets. This wasn’t mandatory or punishment, they are getting a small stipend to sweep the streets and keep there area clean. Instead of buying a machine and hiring one or two workers, the townspeople step forward and sweep the streets. It really appears that the country side is neat as a whistle.

Personal Pride: The other thing…shoes. Everyone has to wear shoes. Apparently the villagers and city folk alike didn’t see the need before and often walked around barefoot in their day to day duties. It didn’t present well it seems. Well, the new shoe rule has created a sort of shoe pride and everyone now wears shoes. They aren’t much; just flip flops or sandals mostly. But I only saw maybe one barefoot walker all day. They don’t want to embarrass their country and now take pride in being fully dressed. A local company started making inexpensive brightly colored rubber shoes from local products. I could see many children and adults alike wearing these signature, “Made in Rwanda” rubber shoes.

Obesity: Rwandans have conquered obesity problem as their children don’t have electricity or water in their homes. They don’t overuse TVs or video games, most of them walk everywhere they go, school, church and shopping. Did I mention there are hills everywhere? The nation is called the land of 1,000 hills. There are many people young and old biking or walking up and down these hills carrying heavy jugs of the daily water needs, grass for cows and even sticks for cooking on bikes, on their heads, in both hands. There are old men carrying thatches of grass on their backs up steep hills to feed their one cow. The women have baskets of fresh produce, tomatoes, green beans and other vegetables balancing on their heads as they climb every mountain.

Jobs: It appears that everyone in Rwanda has a job if they want one. There are optic cable ditches being dug by hand along the road up the mountain to Butare. The country doesn’t buy high tech machines or companies to do this heavy labor. Instead hundreds of people, villagers mostly, men and women alike, line the roadway with their pick ax and shovel. They are all paid a small sum ($2 a day) to do this work by the government. The reason machines are not desirable Emanuel explains is it keeps the people working. The ditch is being dug, to the right depth and width with pick axes and by the sweat of their brow. Soon fiber optics will arrive and communications will improve dramatically.

 Cooks cook with wood where electricity isn't available. I had my laundry done and it was washed by hand...and it smelled heavenly. This kitchen was on the work site. Everybody wins.

Security Patrols: All neighborhoods have security, mostly policemen hired by the government to walk the streets all times of the day and night. But there aren’t enough of them, so neighborhoods are encouraged to hire with their own funds security patrols to supplement the police. The neighborhood buys them a phone and sometimes a uniform and at the scene of any trouble, the faux patrol calls the police.

The Market: The fields are filled with people working with hoes and hand garden tools. Not a tractor in site. There are small fields and gardens everywhere as the plush, lush greenery thrives in the moist humid climate. When fallow ground has to be hoed, it’s done by lines of workers taking each step in unison overturning the brown dry dirt as they go. You can find almost any fresh exotic fruit and vegetable here; Mangos, Pineapple, Avocado, Bananas, Melons, Oranges, Tangerines, Tomato, Green Beans, Casava, every vegetable is super sized. It’s a paradise and the fruit fills the stands along the road and in public markets. They grow corn, rice, sugar cane, all kinds of vegetables, I saw carrots the size of my calves at a road side stop. People walk the road with huge banana bunches on their backs and baskets of tomatoes or freshly picked anything on their heads.

They also fill their jugs with water at the community faucet. It seems so backward, no plumbing. Well, in this poor country, and many like it, putting in individual wells is too expensive. Even in the nice homes, Floriane’s friend has a lovely, comfortable home; she has a number of people hired as house workers; a security boy and a cook. But she doesn’t have water. Not sure why. They fill the need by having large tanks of water in the bathrooms and kitchen to fill the toilet bowl or to even wash your hands and dishes.

When Floriane completed her business and was ready to go back to town, Emanuel’s meetings were just beginning. They took longer than we could stay, so Floriane thought she’d give me her American Guest the treat of a lifetime; a ride on a public bus on the back roads of Rwanda. The drivers have a death wish; I just wish they’d do that somewhere else. They are skilled one has to admit…NASCAR-like skilled. These guys drive like they are obsessed with dying and you guessed it all of them are managing a cell phone conversation at the same time. As for this first time tourist to Rwanda, driving on these roads at high speed is harrowing. The drivers appear skilled, as they dodge pedestrians, small children, old women, barely nicking people, other large trucks, menacing cars, cows, goats, bicycles and mopeds. Here in Rwanda, aggressive driving at its best. They do honk their horns liberally here however letting the driver of the vehicle or pedestrian, moped driver or whoever is in their way know they are passing.

Food: Ok, I had a lovely home cooked meal today prepared with love by Mary, one of Floriane’s friends from Rwanda. She made rabbit, along with some type of bread/potato clump made out of cassava. We had peas in coconut milk. There was a sauce made from tomatoes and spices.

African Tea: This will make me fat. It is rich milk and spices including cardamom and ginger…yum yum. I love the African tea and it will most likely make me really fat. Which by the way, is ok here. It appears my shape is well, perfect. This is the first time someone in my life has ever told me I have nice legs. Mary just blurted it out there. Just as I was thinking I was fat and needed to lose some weight. It appears my buxom bottom and thighs are all the rage here in Rwanda and that I should expect some stares. I have found my home…at least my thighs have.

Day Two: More miracles and a fence
I started my day with another time issue. Apparently Kampala Uganda is a one hour time difference, I set my time to that zone. So, fortunately I was up an hour early. No coffee was available so I enjoyed a bit of African Tea left over from the night before. It was still warm and delicious.

Floriane and I started our day meeting with her architect and fence contractor. The meeting was educational for me as I learned his firm had designed some of the largest commercial projects in downtown Kigali, such as Eco Bank and Bank of Kigali. He’s a very reputable contact. He is watching over the project and is a great blessing to Floriane, probably more than she knows. He watches over the smaller contractors as he knows they sometimes shuffle money around to make ends meet on other projects. He said he doesn’t have much experience working with small contractors, so he’s learning also. He works with large firms who have these things down to a science. The small ones are much less sophisticated, so the importance of finding an honest one is critical. It was good for Floriane to hear this wisdom from an experienced professional.

I couldn’t have agreed more. We ran an errand to her tailor, she has clothes sewn professionally, which is such a great glimpse into the culture of Rwanda. This was also wonderful. The city as expected is run down and people walk, drive, bike and take the bus to get around.

We stopped for a quick cup of coffee at Bourbon Coffee, the shop that Emanuel manages in the mall. He is Floriane’s friend who drove us to Butera the day before. He was working so we connected again.

Then we went off to the site at last! My first day on the site was basically a tour. We drove about 40 minutes from our hotel to get there. The dirt road to the site is about 2 kilometers long. It is full of pot holes as you can imagine. We passed people and children walking, riding bikes and more along side of the road. We also passed a group of about 30 women sitting alongside the road. I asked Floriane what they could be doing. She didn’t know.

When we arrived at the site, it was lunch time. The Scotts had been there all morning, so they were ready for lunch. They all usually went to town for lunch at the local buffet. So, Floriane showed me the work that had been done already, the homes, the holes dug for the fences, the septic pipes and holding tanks and the water tanks placed alongside the house. The Scotts were obviously hungry, so we didn’t do any work, but immediately went to lunch.

The Cooperative

As we drove into town, we were approaching the women alongside the road again. I asked Floriane if she would stop and ask them what they were doing and if I could take their pictures. She did that and the told her no to the photos. They went on to explain that they were a cooperative of women who have come together to find ways to make money. They have been gathering for 4 years and are 60 strong. They have a bank account, a notebook with the names of all the members and they have organized a leadership structure. The president was dressed in full African garb, she has no front teeth. They were meeting, but also working cleaning peanuts they have gathered for sale.

Both Floriane and I were moved in our souls. We gave them seed money, $20,000 Rwandan Francs, which amounts to about $40 or so. This gift blessed the women greatly and they clapped for us and reached out their hands. They showed Floriane their bank book and told her they have asked but that no one has agreed to helped them. We told them we would do what we could to help them. I immediately thought of my new friend and board member Rick Barkley, founder of East Africa Metamorphasis Project. I told Floriane to tell them we will be able to help them and to ask them what they needed. The leader said they want to purchase a cow. I said we would do what we could do what we could to get them a cow. They again rejoiced and reached out to us to touch us and shake our hands. God had heard their cry. Floriane said a word of prayer spontaneously, thanking God for hearing their prayers and for providing for their needs. They all rejoiced. They told us they wanted to give us a gift, but we would have to stop back.

We went to lunch in town at the locally owned buffet restaurant. The owner is delighted the Floriane comes back again and again with her work teams.

The buffet is a few tables of stainless steel pots. The food is chunks of beef in one pot, an African sauce with eggplant, tomatoes, etc., cassava, potatoes, baked sweet potatoes, white beans, plantains and some other items. We all sat together and ate. Floriane ordered bread and Fanta drinks for the workers. She negotiated with the owner and then he said he would go with her to the local distributor of soda and negotiate with him. He did that and Floriane brought the workers back a treat later for the end of their work day.

We told the Scotts about the wonderful experience with the women alongside the road and they stopped on their way back. When we arrived there, they were all gathered around and the women were dancing and singing. It was beautiful. The leader of the women’s group then brought a huge Rwandan basket filled with peanuts from the women and gave it to the leader of the Scottish group. It was a huge sacrifice. As we drove away, Floriane said to me that should have been yours. I knew that too, but I told her it’s just like in the Bible where God says there are some who sow and some who reap. That’s the way it works! I plan to buy some peanuts from them and bring them back to the states.

We went back to the site and the Scotts and I didn’t get a lot done on the fence or anything else the rest of the day as there were plenty of workers pulling chain link on the posts of the fences that were already set in the cement from the day earlier. I could tell Floriane was frustrated by the appeared lack of progress, but she rolls with it graciously. I got a lot of great photos, I got to give a T shirt from my sister to a little girl, and then the work day was ended for us at least. She gathered all of the people into one of the homes and presented the workers with the Fanta and the bread. They were very appreciative and thanked her with a dance and also then asked the Scotts to dance. Which they did of course with the normal white man’s overbite… you know the one! We white people definitely have no rhythm compared to our black family members.

Floriane and I drove back to town as we had plans to meet Alex later that night with his team. We called him and made arrangements for 7-8 p.m. We had planned to join them for supper. I again was not sure what I was to do, as Alex was very involved leading his team of students from Crossroads in a time of ministry with the children of his homeland. He and a friend had been there since May organizing Vacation Bible Camps for the village he was born in and at the orphanage where he was placed after the Genocide. He was on a mission and I didn’t want to disturb. So, we met and Floriane and I quickly discerned they were busy. She went to run errands, I stayed through their evening devotion and then Alex and I would visit. The devotion was on forgiveness, and how that sometimes is a process. How appropriate for that to be the message while in Rwanda. I saw sadness in Alex’s face, it fell over him like a cloud during the prayer. I wondered what burdens this boy carries with him, and how he’s been so blessed to escape death, even while being hunted by murderers during the genocide. Then to find this orphanage, then to escape Africa as his nation and its people begin to heal, then to move to Minnesota and stay with a family that loves and cares for him. The burdens he carries are no match for God. And he acknowledges God’s goodness while we talk.

We talked about each our goals while in Rwanda and part of my goal was to help him tell his story. He told me his need was to find a way to pay for his college to continue his studies and to one day experience his dream to live in Rwanda again as a minister. I told him we would talk further, but that Floriane and I both needed help with our respective non profits, Floriane with administration and me with getting in front of people. We discussed internships and that he could come and speak at my events. Whatever we raised at these events, I would share an agreed upon percentage with him. Or something… better yet, my idea of writing a grant for his pay and he would work for us both as an intern. This might work if his college would accept that arrangement as his pastoral internship. We will see. We agreed to meet in the morning, go to the orphanage where he was sent after his auntie could not care for him and his brother any longer. His story is one of loss and sadness, victory and peace. He’s a remarkable young person, as are many of these poor tormented Rwandans.
Day 3

Floriane arranged kindly to have her driver pick up Alex and I and take us to Gisimba Memorial Center, District of Nyarugenge where Alex lived as an orphan. We walked into the complex and Alex immediately pointed out a bullet still sticking out of the metal window frames. It is painted white as is the frame so it’s hard to identify it as a bullet. But it is, and remains there as a memorial to the dead; one among many in this nation.

Alex introduced me to the Patron of Communications, Niyongana Ildephonse (that’s easy for you to say…I will call him Alphonse) for the orphanage who would tell me the history of the orphanage as well as update me on their current needs.

Alphonse told me that the orphanage was started as a private initiative by Melchior Gisimba and remains so. The Grandparents started the work in the 1950s caring for the orphans after WWII. It began by taking in a few children into their home. People continued to flee Rwanda through years of unrest and war, and the family fled to Congo for a time. They returned to Rwanda in spite of the unrest. And shortly thereafter the father died. The son Peter carried his father’s vision, and now the Grandson, Damas. During the Genocide, people began to bring their children, their neighbor’s children to the home for refuge. Hunted adults came there for hiding as well, and at one point Damas had 400 people in hiding. He bribed the militias and authorities to have them turn a blind eye. It appeared to many that the home had the normal amount of children, as most were hidden in the ceilings. Finally, the good graces and money ran out and Damas himself had to go into hiding. A Seventh Day Adventist pastor stepped in and protected the children and the others in hiding. He negotiated with the Prime Minister, the very one who was responsible for the killings. The Prime Minister saw the tide turning and made a deal that if the minister would have a photo taken with him making it appear the PM was helping those in hiding, he would provide army protection for them to be moved to the protection of the Rwandan liberators. The deal was struck and all of those in hiding were marched with armed soldiers protecting them from the militias to their rescue.

Every person in Rwanda has a history and every orphanage has a story about what happened to them in the genocide. This horrific 100-day massacre of the Tutsi’s is in their recent history (1994, not 16 years ago) and it remains for some unspeakable. It is a vivid and painful memory and the wounds are just beginning to heal for some. But, more and more are talking about their pain. Each time as we go to the building site, we drive by a river. The car seems to get silent as the first day we crossed over it I learned is the very river where many people were mercilessly killed. Their bodies left to float with the current. Horrors and atrocities occurred. Children, I am told, were tied to their parents’ hands and one of them shot and thrown into the river. It saved bullets. There are more ugly stories; this is why even for me it’s unspeakable. I have no joy in even telling them. The stories are so heartless and cruel and…well unspeakable.

When we were finished talking, just before Alex had to go, I asked Alex to take a photo of the places in the home that were most meaningful to him. He immediately went over to the “mums”. The women hired to care for the daily needs of the children. They were not his own, but the idea obviously is that their role as caregivers in the lives of these orphans is so critical; it was his most favorite place apparently. We talked and planned to meet to go to the orphanage in the morning. We saw his dorm, the kitchen, the yard where he played. It was obviously home for him.
Building the Fence:

Well, today was my first work day on the site. I was quite excited to actually get sweaty and dirty. We carried make-shift buckets of mixed mud to fill the holes for the fence posts. This concrete is made up of dirt and water. Mud, really. But, their baked mud is like concrete. If you saw these workers with a pick ax for hours upon hours pounding away at the packed ground to make a hole for the fence posts, you would understand. This hasn’t got any cement mix in it, just rock and mud and water. It was that way in Peru also the mixture of their mud and water was quite firm and lasting.
We went into town again for lunch at the locally owned buffet. I bought lunch for the 6-7 Scottish workers and all the others, about 12 of us. The bill amounted to $18,000 Rwandan francs, which is about…$30.

When we returned, Floriane distributed the shirts to the local children who frequented the site. They are all poor children as you can see, living in rural community with not much to do. So they come watch the muzungu. This is shouted at me whenever we drive by. It’s not derogatory, just a term for white person…often used in delightful glee by a young child waving frantically. The Rwandans have three or more languages, Kinyarwanda, Swahili and French. Many now speak English or are learning it.
Apparently there are many Americans frequenting Rwanda. It appears to be untouched by western culture to a great degree. Nothing is supersized or Walmartized yet. It’s all very simple here, poor yes, but they are keeping a lot of their culture intact and growing as Rwanda, not as outside influences think they should. I am just an observer by the way. It’s hoped that outsiders won’t come in and take without giving back. The people would like to make it on their own, as you can imagine. They accept the help of Americans and others, but would like help that doesn’t make them more dependent, but provide ways to help the country itself build prosperity.

In the afternoon, we went back to work and we had to make more dirt for the cement mud. This requires working the ground to loosen it and pile it to mix with water and granite stones. Quite a bit of work, but we all could do it. The one Rwandan woman helping us knew how to work the ground she would pound it to loosen it up and then begin to hack and wack at it. It’s a very effective way to make mud.
Everyone moves slowly here, more slowly than the volunteers that come. But, I think they pace themselves for heat and altitude. The altitude is high apparently. I didn’t know this. It’s about 5,000 feet and that might explain why I was out of breath a few times. I am pretty hearty, so I don’t expect a problem. It’s important to stay hydrated, well fed and try not to be in the sun. Oh, yeah, that’s funny. There’s no shade at all where we are working, so we are in the heat of the sun all day. It’s not too bad though, 84 degrees or so with a slight breeze and no humidity.

At Kigali, on the central plateau, the average temperature is (70° F ). Rainfall is heaviest in the southwest and lightest in the east. A long rainy season lasts from February to May and a short one from November through December. So, the weather is temperate and very pleasant. But, even so, doing physical labor all day in the sun is very tiring.

We left the site and went to our hotel to clean up as we were going to a concert after dinner and then to Floriane’s friends’ house again for supper. The concert was actually a Christian Revival. I remember that in the states in the 70s there were tons of revivals and we attended a few. I wondered where the Revivals went… and it appears they went to Africa. Apparently there has been a revival of Faith in Africa, and Rwanda as well. The people are seeking God heartily after the genocide and some claim the Catholic Church was complicit in the killings for encouraging factions and not standing up against the prejudices. But the Christian faith was seemingly strong before the genocide. Today there seems to be much grace and pity for those killers who under threat of death participated in cruel massacres. Others have been brought to justice. All will answer to God.

In any case, the Revival service was delightful. I felt moved as I heard and saw the sea of black faces singing and dancing with joy. (They were radiant and their faces were not ashamed Ps. 34) The preacher preached about peace and forgiveness; I know this because it was translated in English. The songs were beautiful, very talented musicians, a choir from a local church and these were not translated. I know they were singing about God, but I couldn’t make out a word.

We had to leave the revival early to go to Mary’s house for dinner. She had a small gathering at her home and again, I enjoyed Rwandan home cooking. This time we were treated to a local delicacy: grilled kidney-skewers for appetizers. This tasted so much like the anticochos I enjoyed as a girl in Peru. We also had fried plantains, sweet potatoes, fried Tilapia, steak fillets on skewers, peas with coconut milk, fried potatoes and much more. Then we were served a lovely fruit salad for desert. This woman knows how to entertain! Then we were given a ride home and crashed in bed.
No Africa tea for me tonight!
Day 4:
Today I slept in. I didn’t intend to, but apparently being up every night journaling and working in the hot sun daily is wearing me down. Floriane ran errands in the morning and waited for the call for the other team that was arriving.

It’s Saturday and we planned to go to the site and work. The team from Pennsylvania arrived later than we thought, so it was the day to sleep in. I had a nice breakfast, got some writing done and then I had to rush out the door. Took some aspirin this time after yesterday as I knew I would be sore and tired. The old body just won’t work the way I want it sometime! Anyway, we drove out and Floriane got a call that her friends husband died. She had to make arrangements to go to see her friend. So, the morning was a bit tumultuous.
Floriane and I are making plans to visit the women again as we agreed on Monday. It appears that the

We got to the site later than we wanted. The team followed us out from town and we immediately got to work. We hauled rock and small buckets of cement. We mixed cement and leveled posts. One of the most striking things about this project is the lack of tools. There are two shovels, no buckets, no wheel barrows. There isn’t a rake in sight, no dumpsters, no cement mixers. There is no electricity, no water to wash up, the water has to be hauled in. Which is the problem today. With all of us working on cement and even with our small little fake buckets with holes in the bottom so the mixture leaks all over our pants as we walk to the fence line… we outpace the cement mud mixers. We are always out of water and waiting for more. The first time the water is brought in on a motor bike, not much water there as you can imagine. Later in the day, just as we were packing up to leave, lots of water arrived on a flat bed truck… go figure.

I don’t have any idea what these containers are that we use for buckets. Don’t contractors usually have buckets and equipment for their help? I think of all the buckets we had at our disposal from our neighbor Paul Wagner. He is a painter and we would just go next door and take them at will. Hundreds of buckets piled in his shop…oh if I only had one now in Rwanda. The workers don’t wear gloves; they don’t stop for breaks or have lunch. They work straight through in the heat and sun and they don’t even have water to drink. Some earn about $2 a day.

All that said, the fence is really coming together. All the posts are in and leveled and now we get to run the wire. By Tuesday we should have the fence finished. I won’t get my hopes up, as well, this is Africa!

Floriane and I are making plans to visit the women again as we agreed on Monday. It appears that East Africa Metamorphosis Project will help fund their project and Floriane has a volunteer in mind to be the onsite director. We will have a list of questions for the women and then report back to Rick Barkley the Executive Director and hopefully he will be able to come to Rwanda in October. They will take it from there and the women will have a start on bigger and better things for their families.

Some side notes; I paid my hotel bill today and it’s a whopping $500 and that includes breakfast. That price was for 7 nights in wonderful accommodations for a poor country as this one. The service is delightful, the food amazing. The manager is a Christian who happened to be at the Revival we attended the other night. The hotel has 18 rooms is in a quiet and safe part of town. It calls itself a bed and breakfast and alas, the swimming pool is not filled. I can see the golf course from the patio balcony however.

Tonight I asked to have breakfast on the patio and the server, who is also the front desk attendant, was gushing with pride and delight. He said in broken English, I have to listen hard. “I am so blessed to have you here. After all our country has gone through it is such a blessing to have guests come to our country to visit.” I thanked him and said I have enjoyed it thoroughly. I also said I would come back and bring friends next time!

I also paid the driver who has brought us to the site safely every day and watched over our belongings honestly and diligently. I paid him a whopping $168. ( I added a tip later) He has a child and a wife. He owns his own car and does taxi driving most of the time. This is a good gig for him. His car travels over the worst terrain ever called a road and he is as gracious and kind as can be.
These experiences have been wonderful. I hope to be able to leave a greater blessing here than I take away.
Day 5 Sunday at Church in Rwanda: Once again, African Time. We were to go to leave for church by 8:30 a.m. and I was ready. Had my usual breakfast, vegetable omelet, sans the cheese, fresh mango and pineapple. Coffee…coffee coffee.
Floriane wasn’t ready until later. We met the Scotts at the church, where there was a revival going on. It seems like there are revivals going on all across the city. There was one in going on in Nyamata too. This is amazing. These are Pentecostal movements. It’s hard to tell, though, as people sing and dance here all the time, and for all I know they are speaking in tongues, but it’s just their own language!

The church is a small church, a new work. You would not know there was a church there, it seemed as if it was a bombed out building, or maybe they were in construction, it’s hard to differentiate here. Anyway, the foundation was laid, the roof was a tent. That’s why they either just came in and squatted there in a building laid bare by bombs or explosions, or they had leveled the area, put up as much as they could afford and then put on a temporary tent roof. Not sure. Anyway, they were lovely people. They gave each of us a translator. The speakers were so loud though, and they shouted into the microphones, that I couldn’t actually even hear my translator. So I asked that we set our plastic chairs outside the door so at least I could hear her translate. Even outside it was loud. Those poor people are now going to have to deal with hearing loss if they keep that up. There was also sweltering heat, no fans and air flow. Most of the people are used to that, so no one seems to mind. Very enthusiastic groups were singing, two of them. I enjoyed the service greatly. I especially loved seeing the men dancing to the music.
Like I said, there was a revival going on, so the evangelist preached. As much as I love the word of God, I think he said the same thing over and over again for about 2 hours. This is all too common in the Spirit filled churches all over the world. Don’t Pastors know that God is able to say what he wants to say to his people succinctly? I’m just saying. Anyway, on and on he went. I am not sure even what he said today, but I think it was something about the woman with the issue of blood. He went on and on repeating him self about the issue of blood, how it’s not normal…etc. etc. And… how many times do you have to say this? Your point is? Oh yes, that she reached out and touched Jesus with her hand. Well, yes she did and she was healed. So, the idea is that we have to reach out our hand, put effort into getting from God what is ours, in her case the healing. What is it in our case? We have to reach out and do the taking, receiving…etc.
Two hours later…. She had an issue of blood…!

Unless my translator only knew a few words, he repeated himself a lot. Nuf Said. My translator started out being a man who was trying to translate both for me and one of the Scotts. Well, I think he thought I spoke French, so he was translating in French… I say “I think” because the speakers were so loud, I honestly couldn’t make out a word. Finally he asked me “ENGLISH ?” I said yes and he tried to translate to two of us, but it wasn’t working so he just did for the Scott. Then another woman was summoned to help me out and she translated wonderfully, but I just really couldn’t hear with the speakers blaring in my ears. So… as I said we moved the party outside.

This was interesting because I saw there was an apartment complex right next door and a man was having his water jugs repaired. He was doing his Sunday morning chores and he and his girlfriend were going in and out of their one room apartment doing morning chores. Apartment complex is used lightly here as it is more of a concrete I don’t want to say shanty, because it is a structure, not make shift tin roof etc. It’s a one story, complex of about 5 rooms or so. They have a small porch out front where the daily chores are done. The water jugs are up to about 5 gallons each and are large square yellow plastic jugs. They often get holes in them and this one was being patched.

Anyway, the Scottish team leader was able to speak, and she preached for a while with an interpreter. One of their team also was able to share. There were two choirs all singing the same song over and over again. I did feel God’s spirit in the place so I know people were being touched.
We had to leave, so Floriane gathered us all together to leave. A few of the women intercepted her at the door and asked if we’d go to the pastor’s office. They served us Fanta drinks and we all visited. The pastor was so blessed to have us there at his church; he of course invited us to the revival.
It wouldn’t happen, as we had plans. Floriane had arranged lunch at our hotel for everyone. She also invited a friend of hers who is a singer from Burundi. Apparently he’s all the rage. He was also singing at the revival we attended, he was the reason we went, but it didn’t work out to see him sing. Nice man, though.

Monday: The women, the fence, the Belgians and the memorial. The Belgians arrived late Sunday night after Ethiopian Air apparently had trouble finding Rwanda. It is an unreliable source of air travel…note to self. In any case, I was introduced to the Belgians when they arrived. Floriane and I enjoyed a drink with them. The Belgians found out about NCV through a friend who is a member of the Rotary. They proceeded to raise money for the projects furniture. They organized a run in Rwanda and it was publicized in Jogging magazine. It was very well attended I understand. These runners took a run Tuesday morning and apparently had 26 children following them! They spoke French mostly, one spoke English, but we didn't have much time to get to know each other. What a wonderful threesome! They stayed on site, brought their sleeping bags. They were the first humans to sleep in the orphanage! They were treated to hot coffee in the morning by a woman who lives close by...that's what I could make out... and they were all very touched and moved by the experience.

We all traveled to the site on Monday. It was to be one of our first full days working together, the Scotts, the Belgians, the students from Villanova and myself. Almost 30 of us would be on site alongside the workers. Maria drove out with us as we had a meeting set up to talk with the cooperative and see if we could help them with their project.

When we arrived, the women from the cooperative were already beginning to gather on the NCV site. Floriane gave the Belgians a quick tour before joining us under the trees. Marie and I started the discussions, as Floriane organized the work crews.

Marie and I went over the survey Rick had sent with the women, getting some background on their group, their goals and their current situation. This was interesting. As a member, each person is required to give $300 Rwandan Francs each month. It’s up to them to figure out how to get the money. Each month, $200 Francs is given to one of the women. Each one gets her turn. The $100 francs goes into a community fund which is used for emergencies of its members.

We learned that they have had some help from one of the community’s members who completes their business plans for them. One thing I have noticed about this country is they have been used to charity. But, things have changed; the government, most officials and the general populous are encouraged toward self sufficiency. Charity is only good if it is given to help the people learn to take care of themselves for the long haul. Dependency on others is frowned upon.

The women shared their business plan with us for the cow project, and for a chickens business. Each one was a stretch for this group, even as it is well organized. They told us they approached a bank to help them with a loan, but were not approved. They didn’t have collateral or a solid pay back plan. We talked to them about their current business, which was renting a plot of land and growing peanuts. They worked the land and each one did their part of the labor. The crop was not very successful this year, so the profits will not be as expected. Their loan request includes renting land, buying chickens. This will cost about $5,000. That is a bit steep for our first project together, so Rick is suggesting $1,000 to $2,000.
They gave us their business plan; Marie is translating it for us and will send it when she is finished. We told the women I wanted to buy some of their peanuts, so they would go back to their homes for them and meet us there after lunch…

It was time for to go for lunch. Floriane made arrangements with the small restaurant again and he had a buffet prepared for our large crowd. The food in Rwanda is simple, potatoes, yams, bananas, plantains, beef, fish, chicken, peas, tomatoes, rice, eggplant, papayas, mangos, pineapples, green beans, black and white beans. There are omelets prepared with vegetables, ham and cheese, bread is baked, cakes and pastries are made.

Overall, the food is good to fair. I liked the more exotic dishes, like the kidney skewers and the rabbit. This is exotic to me, to most of those in Rwanda, normal fare. The sauces there are flavorful and the vegetables and fruits large and plentiful. Yum Yum.

We returned to the site and I bought my peanuts from the women. I paid $1,000 francs for 1 kilo. So I bought 7 kilos for 7,000 rwanda francs. Now I don’t know what to do with them…that’s a lot of peanuts.

After lunch, the students from Pennsylvania decided to go to the memorial in Nyamata. Many small communities had them and most often they were in the churches. This is because the hunted sought refuge in God’s house, often to no avail. The haters had no respect for the house of God. They massacred them mercilessly. One coffin sits among bare skulls in a lower level of the church. The body in the coffin is one of a young woman who was raped repeatedly by the hateful bastards in full view of all the others and then impaled in her private parts to her head with a spear…These are unspeakable acts. For which the nation is trying to forgive…but never forget.

It appears that this ugly history is a part of their national identity. The government, as are all governments, is helpless to heal the hearts of the haters and the hunted. But, they must move on and not repeat past mistakes. There are offices of restoration and reconciliation set up around the country and as a nation they have chosen forgiveness as opposed to rage and punishment in some cases. Many have served time, but that doesn’t heal. It is incomprehensible what happened, and there is no way to recover from these evils. But, they must and they are.

There are stories of unspeakable inhumane hate and murder, but there are also stories of bravery, hope and miracles of compassion. The contrast is striking. Like the orphanage that Alex N. grew up in and the hundreds of innocent lives that were saved by the Seventh Day Adventist minister. There are stories of priests and pastors who rounded up the innocent with promises of protection only to flee themselves and give the key to the murderous mobs. On the other hand, there were Lutheran pastors who hid children and neighbors in their homes, risking their own lives to save another.

The horrible stories of Rwanda’s history are like a horrible nightmare. It is unbelievable. It is unthinkable that this could have happened only 16 years ago. They are working hard to not have these atrocities be their national identity, but they will never forget. Their recovery is part of their story too. We drove home and once again crossed the river where thousands of bodies were thrown after being executed. It will always be remembered for that, although people still fish there, float supplies down the river for distribution and bathe there. But I am sure most will never forget the short 90 days when the river was filled with bodies of the innocent.

I drove home with the driver and waited for Floriane. She was held back at the site and would return with Marie. I learned later the furniture arrived. She stayed until it was set up and battled traffic and didn’t get in until 10:30…

I am proud we were able to provide funds for the fence. It will help protect the belongings and children here. I am worried that the lovely furniture may get stolen before it even opens. It’s such a secluded site. The buildings have bars on the windows and locks on the doors, but I still think someone can get in and destroy or steal the property. So much love and care has gone into this, it is important for NCV to maybe hire a guard to watch over the site. I know it is part of her plan, but it may have to be sooner than later.
The Fence:

Tuesday:

Floriane and I snuck away after breakfast to have a pedicure/manicure in the morning. She felt guilty, but I thought it was part of her job: looking good. She had to meet the Rotarians later that night, so part of her job is to keep up her appearance. Not to mention, the salon is not a spa as we know it. It was ok, mind you, and could have been worse. I had my nails cleaned up and a pedicure. Floriane had the only chair for a pedicure, they had one. So I got the foot tubs, you know the ones we buy at J.C. Penny? It was fine, the water was hot and the attendant professional. She did a great job. Anything to get them cleaned up would be great. After walking in the dust and dirt all day with sandals on, my feet needed a bit of TLC.
On the one hand, I saw no evidence of cleaning of utensils, as is mandatory in the U.S. I asked Floriane and she didn’t think it was required in Rwanda. I didn’t fear infection or fungus, though I probably should have. But, I ate food prepared in the restaurants where no soap could be found, let alone running water in either the toilets or the sinks. So, there; iIf you go to Rwanda afraid of germs, just go back home.

We got to the site a bit late. I got to see the furniture and the house looked great. It is all cleaned up, toilets in and now furniture. How comfortable it looked. Floriane’s vision is for the site to be of a high standard.

 I was touched when we drove in to the site and I heard Floriane say out loud, “I love how the houses look.” She is proud of her work.

Today was the day Floriane had prepared with the owner a buffet at the restaurant across the street called Black and White. It was our last day as a group, so she wanted it to be special. The place was more of a bar atmosphere and provided a live music stage. The buffet and tables were under a tent.

I thought it was nice and the least we could do for using their bathroom all week. Even if it didn’t have running water, it was a decent toilet…just bring your own toilet paper and sanitizer.

The architect showed up today to look the place over also. He was beginning work on the water supply and that was a big job. He had a crew with pick axes and shovels digging a large hole for the holding tank. The water would be piped in from down the road and then brought to each of the above ground water tanks outside each home.

 It will be quite modern for the primitive standards in the countryside. It will be a blessing to the children and to the staff.

We had a long lunch, with a lot of speeches and introductions. The food was, well almost the same fare we had across the street, but we got fried fish on the table in addition. That was nice. We went back to the site and then had some photos taken. We left at about 3 or 4 as my flight was to leave around 8 p.m. This was pushing it a bit, as Floriane thought I should buy a few things from the shop to bring home as well. I agreed. We took a shopping detour and I picked up a few small things to bring back with me. Also I picked up an extra piece of luggage to carry it home. We made it just in time to the airport. Marie works there and she was able to rush me on through! She met us at the door and got me through security, my bags checked and off to the tarmac. Bless her heart!

The flight is 18 or more hours from Kigali, to Brussels to Chicago to Minneapolis. It’s not a bad flight really for traveling across the globe. When I got in the plane, apparently it’s policy that they spray some kind of disinfectant in the aircraft before they land in Brussels. I have not seen that before. Might be from H1N1, who knows?

So, all in all, this trip was momentous and it couldn’t have gone smoother. I thank God for his guidance; I thank Him for his protection. I thank Him for those who prayed for the trip.

It truly was a joy to be there.