Nyamata

"Qui sauve une seule vie sauve le monde entier"
"He who saves a single life saves the entire world"
-Talmud

Today was so incredibly moving and heartbreaking and inspiring, I almost can't stand it. Today was the "serious" part of our trip. We'd done so much reading and learning about the genocide, but couldn't imagine those horrors taking place in this country that we've grown so quickly to love. We spent the day touring different sites hit hard by the genocide, and although I'll attempt to describe what we saw, theres no way words could even come close to doing justice.

At first, I felt a little weird about this deep new interest I've developed about the genocide. I just can't understand how such atrocities actually took place in my lifetime. The more I try to learn about it, the more horrified and saddened I become. I feel like I was just pulled to this country, like I needed to come here to see and breathe and feel Rwanda. Like I learned today at the Genocide Memorial Center, as hard as it is for the Rwandan people to remember that horrible time, it's an important step that must be taken to heal. They insist that the genocide must be remembered and shared, in an effort to understand why it happened, in order to never happen again.

I sincerely hope that my interest will only be interpreted in a positive light. Instead of wanting to exploit this tragedy, I only hope to open the eyes of my friends and family as a tribute to the amazing people of this beautiful country. Their courage and resilience and overwhelming power leaves me completely awe-struck.

*Please note, this entry contains graphic descriptions that are unbelievably horrifying..

We began our day by heading out to Nyamata, a small village close to an hour outside of Kigali. We caught a matatu, and headed out of the city. The drive through the hills was so beautiful. The rolling hills covered in little houses are one of the most impressive sights I've ever seen. I love telling poeple while I travel about how Canada is the most beautiful country in the world, but I think we may almost have to share that title with Rwanda!

A kind gentleman walked us from the main street of Nyamata to the old Catholic Church, which is now a genocide memorial center. We were greeted outside by a young man named Charles. He took us right into the church, where we were met with one of the most crushing sights I've ever seen. Every pew in the church was covered with old, blood soaked clothing of the victims who died there. The ceiling is riddled with bullet holes. Charles asked us if we wanted to hear some stories from what went on there. Through our tears, we agreed. He began calmly explaining that on April 7th, the very day after the genocide began, the Hutu extremists broke in through the front doors of the church, which was sheltering over 6800 people (they had already killed 3200 who were outside of the church). He showed us where the grenades had blown through the doors, leaving huge chunks out of the cement floor. Right inside the main gates, there was a door with a small room. Using an ax, the extremists had chopped the door down, and took seven men from the inside of the tiny room, and slowly chopped off their limbs and killed them in front of the entire church full of people. Then they decapitated a man, and the soldiers laughed and kicked his head around like a soccer ball before killing the rest of the people inside.

Then he took us down into a cellar, where there were about 100 skulls on display. They had varying degress of damaage, but on every single one, you were able to tell how the person had died. Some had very obvious machete marks, others simply had gaping holes clearly made by a blunt object being slammed into the head. Then we went around the church to the back, where we were led down into a crypyt that housed forty THOUSAND bodies. Any bodies that were fully intact (barely any) were in coffins, the rest were just shelves and shelves and shelves of skulls and bones, all neatly re-arranged into thousands of rows.

We walked slowly back to the front of the church, completely emotionally drained. We asked Charles if he was there that day. He said yes. We asked him how many people inside the church actually survived. He answered, "Seven". Seven people. Him and six other were the only survivors. Out of 6200. One day. 6193 people killed. Brutally. Savagely. In front of his eyes. The epitome of evil occurred in that church that day. And for 99 other days, in many other places in this small country. This courageous young man is truly my hero on earth. If a more positive, amazing person is one this planet, I wouldn't believe it. How he managed to live through such horrors, only to step back in that church every day, I'll never understand. The most amazing part? He was so warm and compassionate. Within seconds of stepping in the church, Shelby was in tears, and he was so quick to give a warm hug and let her compose herself before we began the tour. He asked if we wanted to hear stories, and always stopped to make sure we were able to handle them before continuing through especially gruesome descriptions (trust me, the things I've written today don't even come close to some of the horrifying things he told us). He was so open, and encouraged us to ask questions and take pictures, and gave us some time to be alone with our thoughts. This man has absolutely seen the worst that humans are capable of inflicting upon one another, and manages to be a complete pillar of support and love and light for the people around him. I will be eternally awed and humbled by his quiet strength.

The most amazing part is that this country is filled with amazing people like him. While people obviously discuss the genocide openly, there are people who willing open up to tell you about their experiences and their hopes and dreams and memories. The Genocide Memorial Center back in Kigali was an amazing experience too, although much more intellectual and less emotional. There was one very powerful exhibit, where survivors had brought old photographs of their loved ones who'd lost their lives during the genocide. A whole room with thousands of sets of eyes; mothers, children, fathers, grandparents, siblings, so many people who lost their lives because of the hate of others. Genocide is just such a senseless crime. The only real motive is hatred. The Hutus succeeded in wiping out 85% of the Tutsi population. 1 000 000 people, both Tutsis and moderate Hutus died. Such a colossal tragedy.

Today in Rwanda, the red dirt roads weave through the hills. The green, lush vegetation spreads over the landscape as far as the eye can see. The morning mist blankets the valleys, and slowly burns off as the sun rises high in the sky. People are warm and kind and lovely. An amazingly country in the very heart of Africa. Now, there are no Tutsis, no Hutus. Everyone here is Rwandan. It's an amazingly collection of people who are somehow able to rise above the unimaginable horrors of their past. They are able to look hopefully towards a future where people can learn to appreciate the things that make us different, a future where differing skin colours, religious beliefs, customs and dreams can some how live together in a world that embraces diversity.

"No matter how idealistic the aim sounds, this new century must become the "Century of Humanity", when we as humn beings rise above race, creed, colour, religion, and national self-interest and put the good of humanity above the good of our own tribe. For the sake of the children and of our future." - Romeo Dallaire

-Delaney xo