Week 5- Kigali

Location: Kigali, Rwanda
For my free week (which was actually our sixth week here, after Rakai), I decided visit Kigali, the capital of Rwanda. I purchased a bus ticket for $12 (so I can’t complain) and left Kampala at nine in the morning, arriving in Kigali after a hot and cramped ten hours on the bus – about two hours later than expected.

Unless for some reason you have studied Rwanda, in the United States, any mention of Rwanda conjures thoughts of the genocide that took place sixteen years ago. People think of Rwanda exclusively in those terms, it seems, and for many Americans, Rwanda has the reputation of a dangerous place torn by genocide and war.

Kigali is actually a very beautiful city. It is also one of the safest cities in all of Africa. It is clean and modern, and it is hilly and lush and cool, and it is even possible to find a good, properly brewed cup of Rwandan coffee. There is very little traffic, and each breath of air you breath is not tainted with diesel fumes and dust. You can take boda-bodas (motorcycle taxis) safely – helmets are compulsory and all drivers must be registered, and this is actually enforced – and the roads are paved, so your ride feels unnaturally smooth after spending a month in Kampala. It is also a very expensive city, largely because of all the international aid that was pumped into the county after the genocide. In fact, it almost feels like Europe, especially when you hear French being spoken all around you.

Despite all of this, the effects of the genocide are of course still very prominent. The interesting thing is that they are subtle. On the surface, Kigali is a relaxed, modern, clean and friendly city, but as I spent time there, I began to notice an underlying sadness that almost seemed to surround me. It hit me, I think, as I was eating dinner at a restaurant with a couple of people who I had met. One of them spoke some Swahili, and she was speaking with our waitress, who also happened to speak Swahili. She told us about her life very briefly – that she had lost her whole family in the genocide.

This waitress gave a human face to the genocide, and it was her very reserved manner and quiet demeanor, friendly without being overtly happy, that I think characterized many Rwandans and pointed to the underlying sadness that will be present there for many years to come. It is amazing to think that nearly everybody of my generation or older are survivors of the genocide who witnessed atrocities that we can barely imagine. I realized that nearly everybody I saw and interacted with were in some way affected – most of them probably lost friends or family members, and many of them probably watched as they were killed.

As impressed as I am by how far Rwanda has come in less than two decades, I am equally intrigued by how Rwandans will continue to negotiate the underlying sadness that shapes their society.