I woke up yesterday still very aware of my jet lag. After breakfast I tried to get back into bed, but Dr. King told me to stay on my feet and offered to drop me off at the Genocide Memorial. As we whipped through the busy streets of Kigali I attempted to memorize how to walk home, but as I will mention later, this did not work out as I planned. The Clinton Genocide Memorial was paid almost entirely by our former president William Clinton. After acknowledging that the global community did very little to prevent what happened in Rwanda in 1994, he put up the money for a museum and gardens contain mass burial sites. Clinton has said that his decision not to help stop the genocides in time was perhaps his greatest blunder in Presidency. The memorial itself is a beautiful building on the side of a hill offering a great view of surrounding Kigali. The exhibit was very well done and although it was almost painful to take in at times, was magnificently well done and honors those who lost their lives with the respect they deserve. I took about an hour and a half here to see the gardens and museum and then fairly confidently decided I could walk back to the house I was staying at.
I will give myself some credit and say I got about half way before I took a wrong turn. Prior to that turn though, any deviation from the road I was on immediately lead to a dirt road, which I knew to be wrong. As I headed toward the city center, I realized I had made an incorrect move so flagged down a motorbike taxi to take me home. I soon realized that this man spoke only French, and I only English. (I am trying to remedy this problem as quickly as possible; the doctors have told me I can have French lessons when I arrive in Shyira.) I instructed the driver to take me to the Kigali Golf Course and provided some awkward swinging motions to indicate a golf swing. I was not surprised later when I was told that a vast majority of Rwandans do not play gold. After buzzing through the city on the scooter for about 10 minutes, I arrived at the Kigali Tennis club with very little idea where I was. As I did not have the ability to tell the driver that this was incorrect, I assured him I had a great time on the back of his bike and decided I would be better off on foot. I have come to Rwanda during the rainy season, so about once a day we get a hard rain for 20 minutes that is immediately followed my an intense sun to end the day. As my luck would have it, I went on my journey before the daily rain, and thus it started just as I saw my taxi motor flew away looking for his next customer. As you can most likely imagine, I stick out like a sore thumb here. Before catching the bike, I was a little bitter that I couldn’t blend in here a little better, now I am happy to say that my blond hair and blue eyes worked out well for me. As I walked in the opposite direction of my house after getting dropped of by my taxi, soaked by rain and starting to get a little nervous, a man came along. After I decided that this didn’t look too dangerous, I jumped in his truck to get a ride. His English was a little broken but within a couple sentences I was sure he knew where I wanted to go. I threw him a little cash, thanked him, and ran in the poring rain the last little bit up to the house. Waiting for me was lunch, some tea, and the unexpected bowl of popcorn. After all that excitement I couldn’t keep my eyes open and so decided to take a little nap that ended up lasting 4 hours. I got up to eat dinner, watch a little television with the elderly couple I am staying with, and then get back to bed at a somewhat decent hour. Thanks for all those who are reading this; I know it was a little long winded. I hope to keep this up but as I head into the more rural areas of Rwanda today, I’m not sure how often I will be able to get online. Thanks again and I hope to post again sometime soon.
