Peace Corps is very intentional to ease its volunteers into their country of service, in Rwanda, a post-conflict country, they are particularly careful. I arrived, along with 70 other volunteers, to Kigali, Rwanda on Thursday evening where we spent three days in a compound in Kigali doing basic orientation- safety, health, culture, greetings in Kinyarwanda and getting to know the other volunteers. The volunteers in my group come from all over the country, range in age from 21-60 and include three married couples. The range of experience is vast from a few people who have spent time in Africa (probably about 5 of us) to people who have never been out of the country. We are all going to be teachers, either math, science or English, but even the experiences there range from long time teacher to only having tutored once or twice. The great diversity in our group is both a blessing and a challenge because we have SO many different skills and gifts to learn from but we also have to go slowly slowly through all material to address everyone’s individual situation. I found it a bit difficult at first to bond with the group because the primary source of bonding in the first week is the shock, awe and shared experience of exploring/seeing Africa for the first time. There is one other girl here who has been in east Africa and she has been my buddy. Thankfully we were roommates while in Kigali so we could freely share our thoughts and feelings.
The most pivotal point in our few days in Kigali was our visit to the Genocide Memorial Museum. This museum was build to commemorate and remember the genocide of 1994 and to declare to the world “never again.” When we first arrived we placed flowers on the mass graves of 250,000 people who are buried on that ground. This was a hugely emotional action for me as I considered the fact that 250,000 people is essentially 100 Furman Universities buried there. When I thought of the mothers, fathers, children, young people, elderly and babies who were brutally murdered I broke down. The genocide was the result of hatred that had grown over several decades beginning with Belgian colonization and perpetuated by extremists and propaganda. The first floor of the museum discusses the Rwandan genocide but the second floor presents information about other genocides throughout the 20th century: the holocaust, the Armenian genocide, the Namibian genocide and others. The brokenness of the world was staring me in the face and my heart was heavy with grief at the capacity of humankind for evil. I know in my heart that I am no better and I sincerely believe that. I was overwhelmed with the need for Jesus in the world today just as much at it ever has been. I was also filled with admiration for the Rwandan people who have done amazing things in picking themselves up and moving on. Walking down the street afterwards I was struck with the laughter, chatter and well-for lack of a better word- normalness of the people. There is definitely a kind of quiet strength in the Rwandan people that is not seen elsewhere in east Africa.
One thing that stuck out to me as I left the museum was the grave failure of the west to help. After the holocaust, the United Nations created an anti-genocide arm that was supposed to enforce “never again.” Many times the western world has been faced with genocide they have chosen to turn away or argue semantics instead of doing something. I felt guilt at the legacy of my country and frustration that the ideals we spout do not match up with our actions all too often. Even now in Darfur and the Congo mass killings are happening, but little (relatively speaking) has been done. Just something to think about I guess. Being here in Rwanda makes not only the Rwandan genocide seem more real but also makes the acute suffering of people all over the world seem more tangible as well. Facts and statistics can be thrown around a university classroom with indifference but when you look into the scarred face of a genocide survivor you begin to see the flesh and heart of those statistics. Action thus becomes more urgent. And let me assure you, it is urgent.
There is a beautiful quote in the book I just read called Little Bee. It says, “ …I ask you right here please to agree with me that a scar is never ugly. That is what the scar makers want us to think. But you and I, we must make and agreement to defy them. We must see all scars as beauty. Okay? This will be our secret. Because take it from me, a scar does not form on the dying. A scar means, I survived.”
After our stay in Kigali we moved to Nyanza about 2 hours away where we will be staying for our 11 weeks of language, technical and cultural training. As I walk through the market here and practice my rocky Kinyarwanda (local language) I look into faces of those who survived. Some scars are external like many here in Rwanda but many more are internal. We all bear scars that the scar makers want us to believe are ugly. Christ died so that our scars could be made beautiful. And they are beautiful because they tell the story of his grace and great love for us-in that we can rejoice.
So rejoice today in your scars and the beautiful scars of those around you. Rejoice that you survived and choose to defy the scar makers knowing that they too have scars. Each person is in need of grace and each person is infinitely worthy of love for Christ first loved us.
In shalom and in defiance of the scar makers,
cg
