Monday 16 May 2011

Rwanda Journal, Entry 30: The Mzungo has Landed

FIRST NIGHT

I stepped off the plane at Kigali International Airport at 7:15pm (CAT). As my feet touched tarmac, the smell of woodsmoke, earth and low level ozone filled my nostrils. "So this is the smell of Africa," I thought.

It was dark when I arrived and as I made my way to the arrival gate I looked out at the landscape around the airport. On each side of me, the rolling hills were dotted with white and orange lights as though the night sky had settled on top of them.
With my naked eye I could make out the shapes of billboards and buildings in the distance; cars crawled like glowworms on the reddish-yellow roads beneath them.

After collecting my bags from the luggage carousel, I walked to the terminal. Julius Mugumya, the  logistics coordinator for the Rwanda Initiative, was there to greet me.

"Amakuru," he said. "Welcome to Kigali."

Julius and his friend, Bosco, carried my bags out to their car and we made off down the road.

The city of Kigali is densely populated, fast-paced and well ordered; even so, drivers in the city are crazed lunatics. Mototaxis duck and weave between cars, vans and the odd soldier-laden military jeep. In the case of each of these vehicles, the horn is used far more frequently than the brakes.

When we finally arrived at the Rwanda Initiative project house, after 20 minutes of white knuckle madness, my heart was pumping pure adrenaline. I didn't have much time to get settled before the other journalism interns from Canada appeared and invited me to dinner at a restaurant called Papyrus.

Had I been thinking rationally, I probably would have declined, unpacked my things and gone to bed. But by that point a mix of fatigue and nervous excitement left rational thinking out of the question. I joined my fellow interns at Papyrus, where I reconnected with Mbonisi and finally met Mary Katherine Keown, the Rwanda Initiative's project coordinator, whose job it is to keep me alive while in-country. I hope to make her job as easy as possible. 

When I finally returned home several hours later I settled in for a night of turbulent sleep.

FIRST DAY

I've been hounded by jet lag all day. I woke up at 7:00am and was unable to get back to sleep. So I opted to take photos of the project house at day break.
The compound is beautiful. It stands on a tall hill and the balcony in the front looks out over a stretch of highway that leads to the centre of town.  
Beautiful though it may be the place is also ruthlessly secure. Aside from barbed wire, the walls are lined with shards of broken glass, frightening for their crudeness.

FIRST MOTO RIDE

Despite my jet lag, I went downtown with Julius to exchange money and buy a phone earlier in the day. This meant taking my first motoride through some of Rwanda's less impressive roads.  

Instead of trying to describe the experience, I opted to record a short video that pretty much sums it up.


Motos are everywhere in Kigali and for 500-700 Rwandan Francs (around 1 Canadian dollar) they'll take you anywhere you need to go in the city. Everyone is obliged to wear a helmet, which I hope reassures my parents.

Even so, when the driver hits the gas and begins darting between moving cars you start to wonder if they couldn't give you something more.

Anyway, the jet lag is starting to bite hard and I think I'll wrap this post up for now. I'm planning to meet Douglas Mugerwa, the editor of Kigali Unplugged in the next day or so. I'll let you know how that goes.

2 comments:

  1. Cam, I heard your interview with Terry S on CBC the other day. I just wanted to say that I'm going to be following your posts as long as you write them.
    In 1995/96 I was part of the Canadian Contingent for UNAMIR, and was housed at the Amahoro Stadium, and as well as the hotel that was adjacent to it. I've always said that I left part of myself there, and this must be so, as I have PTSD from that experience. I hope you will write more of the life and sights that you see there, because it is unlikely that I would ever be able to return and see if the UN did any good.

    Cheers,
    Jim Allan

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  2. Jim,

    Thank you for your message. It is humbling to know that someone with such intimate knowledge of these hills and valleys is reading about my adventures here.

    As I look out at the construction projects and busy streets of Kigali in the year 2011, I can scarcely imagine this place as anything but a living, breathing Garden of Eden. But of course, that has not always been the case.

    As for the UN and your own mission, I am not certain of its legacy here. Rwandans that I've spoken with tell me both remain controversial.

    Without question, many Rwandans are grateful for the help UN peacekeepers sought to offer. There are also many who feel they were abandoned by the international community at their hour of greatest need and UNAMIR serves as a lightning rod for their anger. I really don't know which view is more pervasive.

    What I can say with complete certainty is that any Canadian who is worth a damn is proud of you and your fellow peacekeepers. It's little consolation, but it's the truth. You were sent to keep watch at the mouth of Hell and when the ground parted you held your ground.

    I sometimes wonder what Dante would have done without Virgil to guide him through the inferno. Would he have been able to take it? Would he have ever made it out? If he did, would he have been able to talk about it? Would he have felt guilt?

    These are the questions peacekeepers who served in Rwanda grapple with to this day and there are no good answers.

    All I can say is that to me, as a Canadian and as a human being, you are a hero.

    Anyway, I seem to have gone off on a bit of a tangent. My apologies. Something about the air in this country makes me quite long-winded. Just the same, I hope you'll keep reading and I promise to keep posting.

    All the best and thank you,

    Cam

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