Tuesday night was not strategic at all.
Ended up in another staff meeting and this time I stayed. It was actually really good fun. Started at about 4:45pm and apparently went on until 10pm! I made it to seven and then, hilariously, in the middle of a Deaf meeting, we had a power cut and no one could see each other! Even more hilariously we have an advert in the office for glow-in-the-dark gloves for signers. Might see’f the UN can hand some out as emergency measures ;)
Aaaanyway. By the time I finished, D and Steve were just locking up next door, so I texted them to wait for me. We all ended up at Stella, next to my house, with Drew, Mel and Cathy (mental Irish woman/volunteer). D and Steve were technically taking a break as they were supposed to be working the night. Some Ugandan or Kenyan reggae star who was recording a track before flying out to the US, or somewhere. It all sounded a bit hectic, but Steve got a call to go to the studio and rang back a while later to say that they’d cancelled. D’s not a huge fan of Stella – it’s not my favourite bar either, but we ended up having a good drink. Then he came back to mine and we continued with the wine and listened to track after track of music. I'm getting an edumercation in African popular artists. I was glowing with pride earlier. Steve heard some of my play list and gave it the thumbs-up. It was just some old stuff. He particularly liked Avalanches, Frontier Psychiatrist.
Anyway, D and I ended up sitting on the porch chatting ‘til about 11:30. When he finally split, I knew I would suffer the next morning. I was up at six again and in the office for eight. This time we actually made it! We finally got on our way around 11:30. Bus left at 2:00pm. There was me, Parfait, and another lady, who is absolutely lovely but I only know her by sign name! When we got to Ruhengeri we picked up Luoie, a hearing Teacher for the Deaf who used to work at the school in Butare. He knows Antonia well but has since relocated as, apparently, management of the school is currently on a downward spiral.
The scenery headed North is totally different to going South. South became tight, rugged, jungle-laden forest. This became wide, sweeping mountains and valleys, then, breathtakingly, the Virunga volcano range. It absolutely eclipsed the horizon as it soared above the cloud line. Unbelievable to look at. Awe inspiring.
We eventually pulled into Gisenyi around three hours later.
Interesting place. I preferred Changugu for character. Huge muzungu crisis going on in the town. You attract a crowd wherever you go. Same if you are signing in the street – huge crowds gather. You had a few in Cyangugu, but nothing like this. I was surprised, as Gisenyi is a major tourist attraction. You would have thought that people would have gotten over it by now. It’s what Betty and everyone in the office terms ‘village’. A bit un-cool.
The accommodation wasn’t bad: big bed, mosquito net that fitted this time (and thankfully so - loads of the bastards up there), huge en suite (no hot water, naturally, or toilet seat). FRW 6,000 - same as the last. There was a lovely sitting area outside, but music until late. I stayed up with a mutzig and a book after we’d eaten and my colleagues left.
The first evening, we went down to the local Deaf school, which is very cool indeed. There are some sound kids there. We had a good time meeting them, and we also met a teacher there called Jack. Interesting guy. He’s there teaching English, only his English is somewhat ropey. He's a first-language French and Swahili speaker, but he’s literally just fled the Congo under Laurent Nkunda, the Tutsi rebel leader who’s gone a bit AWOL in the Congo.
Jack arrived last week and the only work available is English tuition, so now he’s in the Deaf school without Sign Language or much English. He’s a really lovely guy, but the whole time we were recording data I was helping to explain English vocabulary. I feel really sorry for him, he’s lost a lot of family, and he knows absolutely no one here. I've larnt since being in Rwanda that travelling is one thing, but friends make or break the expirience.
Gisenyi is (excuse my French) a weird flipping place. It’s the Lake District of Rwanda, with a massive golden inland beach on the shores of Kivu. Kivu is literally like a sea – you can’t see the far shore. It's bigger than Belgium, apparently. The source of the Congo River, and the remnants of a giant volcanic crater.
Yet you’re spitting distance from the closed part of the Congolese boarder. Right next to Goma in the North Kivu district, which has been described in poetry as 'a living hell'. Just over the hill, Nkunda and the Congolese army are blowing shit out of the Hutu rebels and, occasionally, from what I can gather, each other. You’re sitting in the sunshine, supping your beer, and military helicopters are flying overhead to back up the Rwandan army on the other side of no-man’s land. I didn't feel the slightest sense of fear as a tourist there, but it sure makes you wonder.
In addition, the history of the place leaves you gorping. On three sides you’re standing in the shadow of these huge, green, forested volcanic hills over which, like lava flowing, the RPF issued forth from Uganda to liberate the country and end the genocide. Parfait loves to stare at the hills and point out where the then rebel forces came from. You stand just gazing at them, thinking about all those thousands of men, all those who had been in exile for years, trained in a foreign war, and then rallied together to come home to the scene of murdered brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers and friends. It’s bloody cold in the mountains and it rains quite often (all the way there in fact), many died of hyperthermia and pneumonia in the forests. When you take the bus back, you realise just what an amazing feat of endurance and organisation that must have taken to sweep the entire country and suppress the genocide. It’s almost beyond imagining. Yes, Rwanda is small, but even a small country is vast, and Rwanda is one huge ripple of mountains and hills.
Today, I really came face-to-face with what would motivate people to do that. I met an amazing hearing man called Frederic. Along with his best friend, he established a community centre in Gisenyi for disabled people to get an education and find employment.
Frederic used to be a Teacher of the Deaf. No, sorry, scratch that, he is a Teacher of the Deaf – a very good one. Only, in 1994, a group of people held him down and cut off both of his hands.
During Disability Day in Nyanza, I saw a Deaf man who had the same thing happen. It turned my stomach. Not the physical mutilation itself, but everything that entails. I think about the passion I have for Sign Language, and I see it in this man. He went to America, where they fitted him with prosthetics that allow him to hold a pen and draw. He wasn’t wearing them when we met, but it’s very hard to sign when you have no hands. His passion for the language is amazing – the room is filled with American alphabet cards, posters, and ASL textbooks because, as yet, there aren’t any in AKR. His devotion to teaching Deaf people is intense. He understands Sign Language perfectly. He just can’t reply. It’s heartbreaking. He is such a beautiful man.
I seriously want to support their work at the centre. They make the most exquisite dolls and bags. I brought some back to Kigali with me – I haven’t seen such quality anywhere in Rwanda before. I’m going to help them out with fundraising, like Ezra. He’s looking for outlets for the products, to give employment to the people at the centre. Not just Deaf people, but amputees, the blind, everyone. Their work is phenomenal. I hope to take Dad & M up there to see when they come in September. Perhaps they can take some back with them to show around. I’ll post more about this place soon.
So, I had a really good time in Gisenyi. I met some unbelievable people. Saw the poverty-stricken world outside of Kigali; real local neighbourhoods. It’s a strange place for a tourist spot, I guess. Still, even for a tourist spot it's rather off the beaten Lonely Planet track.
So, yeah. If I was the praying sort I’d be praying for a bit more peace and prosperity in the area.
Apparently, a UN peacekeeper went missing crossing the border between Chad and Sudan earlier this week. Haven’t seen/heard the update, but fingers crossed.
I have photos from Gisenyi, so I’ll be uploading soon. Hopefully getting them off Parfait tomorrow.
I've learned a bit more about my colleagues. It's always good these bonding sessions when we're travelling. Also learned something about myself. I’m on top form on the road or in my home, but I can’t stand inertia. Get me out of the office! lol This must come as no surprise to anyone who’s been reading thus far. My rants and downs revolve around the office. Get me out and I’m flying again. I just need to be doing something; achieving things. Mind food.
Lot to think about, so I won’t write any more just yet. What a tragic, hopeful state things are in. Still. It’s rolling up to Genocide Memorial Week next month. Gacaca's winding down. Wonder what the future holds?
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| Researching in Gisenyi |
NB 2013: The following picture is of Frederic, and there's an article about him in the Guardian.
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