First Off!

As some of the more astute readers of my blog may have gathered, our first vacation started in Kigali, Rwanda. Wes, Chris and I (three of the four engineers on the team) headed directly for the border after lunch on Thursday and arrived about an hour after dark in Kigali. Annoyed by all of the constant offers for rides, we decided to walk the three kilometers into town. Found lodging and then set out for dinner. Had an amazing French fry and goat meat omelette, though the amazing part may have been due to our hunger. Moved to cheaper lodging at the church guesthouse the next morning. Then went for lunch at an all-you-can-pile-onto-one-plate buffet (same place we got the omelette the previous night). Was more than enough for one man, but still delicious. Once we felt sufficiently fortified, we headed off to the Genocide Memorial.

A word on Kigali. The first thing I noticed were the streets, or more specifically the gutters. Or rather how they existed in Kigali, whereas they were dirt ditches in Kampala or Mbarara. Once I noticed that little touch of affluence, I started to pick up on other things like how the sidewalks and buildings seemed to have a little more order to them that most other developing cities I’d visited. The biggest difference was the motorcar/pedestrian interaction. In Ugandan (indeed in most cities outside of North America and Scandinavia), the car owns the road, and pedestrians run when crossing it. I learned very quickly in South America to either find a nun or priest (or very hot girl) who was crossing the road, and try to use them as a shield. (And everybody knows that at the other end of the spectrum, pedestrians rule in Vancouver - much to the annoyance of visiting drivers/pedestrians). This interaction seems to have reached a new balance in Kigali. Cars yield to pedestrians when there are enough of them and pedestrians yield to cars when there’s no break in the traffic. Everybody seemed very respectful of the rules. I wonder if this is a reflection on the rule of Paul Kagame and the RPF? Which brings us back to the memorial.

Very powerful place. Needless to say, I was emotionally exhausted by the time I’d left there. Up to that point, I’d been shielding myself from the thoughts, but after the images and the testimonials, I couldn’t help but think about it constantly. I would pass Rwandans in the street and wonder if they were Hutus or Tutsis. Which of course is the wrong thing to do. President Kagame’s most persistent message is that there are no Hutus or Tutsis, only Rwandans. But you can’t help but try to understand what drove the genocidaires. Also from that point on, I couldn’t help but take certain places and imagine what roles they took on during the massacre. The church guesthouse we stayed at had been a refuge during the genocide. Hung out in the bar at Hotel Mille Collines, famous from the movie Hotel Rwanda. And most of the rivers we passed on the way from the border had a sign indicating that this had been a genocide dumping ground (or at least from what we could interpret from the signs written in Rwandan. Seemed like there should be ghosts everywhere. But of course, it’s been 14 years, and the government was eager to put the everyday reminders behind them, so there was very little everyday evidence.

Anyway, this entry is far too long, but in my defense, this was a powerful trip. However, aside from the memorial and the place Kigali plays in modern history, the city is actually pretty small and boring. Beautiful but boring. The best memory I have is Wes and I finding a rooftop bar (through a series of unlit stairwells) and talking about American politics; the debate between McCain and Obama and the effect Sarah Palin is having on the race, with the bar owner, whilst playing pool. Very nice evening, one of those classic backpacker moments.

Sunday headed off to Bushara Island resort on lake Bunyoni, which has to be the most beautiful part of Uganda I’ve seen so far. And then my traveling companion Naomi came down with a fever and aches. So I took her into the hospital to be tested (but not before finishing off her delicious pancake breakfast), and was informed that she did indeed likely have malaria. So headed back the next day to Mbarara, which is where I currently find myself. Sorry for the long entry, congratulations if you’ve made it this far. I swear the next entry will be far shorter and succinct.