Cyangugu

Well, I've been back in the States for almost three weeks, and now I feel ready to write more about the last week I spent with some really wonderful people in Rwanda.

The last trip we made was to a small village in the Cyangugu region, near the Congo and Burundi border and were planning on spending three nights there. It took us most of the day to drive there, during which we went through the Nungwe Natioanal Forest, which is one the most dense forests I have ever experienced and covers approximately 970 square km. It hosts a whole bunch of monkeys and chimps, one of which we spotted on the side of the road. It also hosts a small army of Rwandese soldiers scattered in different parts of the forest. The elevation was pretty high, and there were many times we would drive through a cloud. Sometimes, the clouds even blocked our view of the surrounding valleys. As always, the scenery was truly amazing. We'd constantly stop to take pictures and to check on the car's engine.

We were in the forest for about three hours. As soon as we were out of it, we hit the tea plantations which seemed to go on for ever. They looked almost too perfectly shaped.

We arrived in Cyangugu in the late afternoon, met with the community and tried to quickly plan a program for the next day. They informed us that there was going to be Gacaca the next day, which was a bummer because you are basically not allowed to have any meetings that aren't related to gacaca on those days. Fortunately, they had informed the local officials of our arrival and gotten permission for us to meet with them. So, we unpacked our stuff into the Baha'i center, where we were going to spend the night. Through out the evening, the kids ran around the building, wanting to get a good look at their new visitors. Most of us stayed in that first night. As circumstances changed the next day, it turned out to be our first and only night we would spend in Cyangugu.

Around noon the next day, a couple of police men and soldiers stopped by asking us why we were meeting on a gacaca day. They didn't seem threatening, but simply curious about what we were up to. We mentioned that we were told that the local officials had been informed of our arrival and program in Cyangugu. Evidently, they had not been informed, and so they asked our group, as well as the local adults to go to the police station where we would be interrogated. I wasn't really nervous because the police in Rwanda seemed a lot tamer than what I was familiar with in Cameroon. I definitely didn't think anything bad was going to go down. Before we left, we asked if they would allow one of the volunteers to stay back and guard our belongings. They accepted and Fostan, our Rwandese friend and travel companion, waited for us at the Baha'i center.

When we got to the police station our group of about 13 was led to an office filled with couches, obviously belonging to a senior officer. We sat down, and one of the men who had met us earlier entered and started writing down our names on a sheet of paper. This took at least a half hour, as he was asking us our country of origin, when we arrived in Rwanda, and what we were doing in Cyangugu. Straight forward questions.

Later, another man came in and sat down behind the desk. This was obviously his office. He also didn't seem threatening. He asked us a few questions and then wanted to see our passports. We handed him what we had. Some of us, I included, only had a photocopy of our passport. It was the safe thing to do, right? I left all my original travel documents in a safety box in Kigali, in case I was to lose them and have my trip home delayed. Anyway, this did not make him too happy. He kept shaking his head as he looked at the piece of paper I had handed him.

A third man walked into the room. This man wasn't tall like the other two, nor was he wearing civilian clothing. He was short and chubby in his military fatigues. He sat down next to the desk and looked through our documents. He then looked around the room, his eyes shifting until they fell on Lua. He glanced down at her passport copy, and then stared back at the poor girl. He did this several times as he smiled at her, obviously entranced. But, there was nothing kind about his look, as far as I could tell. I imagined ripping his fat eye balls out of his sockets. Maybe, it isn't fair to judge him like that, but he was the one person in the room that didn't look sincere.

A few minutes later, a fourth man walked into the office, also wearing army fatigues. He was by far the strongest and tallest man in that room. He walked in with an authority that the other three men lacked. He sat down behind the desk with the other man, and looked through our documents. He too wasn't happy with what he saw. They asked us more questions. Where we came from, how we got here, what our parents do, what we brought with us, if we brought cameras, and other questions that bore no relation to why they had brought us in. We were all very nervous, and a little scared at that point. And this was obvious to the men I think.

By this point, we had been in that office for over two hours. Sam, then spoke up and asked what exactly the problem was and what could be done to resolve it. The well-built man replied that our documents were definitely not appropriate and they couldn't ascertain how we had entered the country. They were also angry with the locals for not informing them of our arrival. Whereupon, the locals insisted that they had written a letter. This frustrated muscle-man even more, and he then asked why he does not have that letter. He then lectured us about carrying our passports everywhere we went to. We then asked if we could stay the remainder of our time in Cyangugu. He said that was fine and that we shouldn't be concerned for our security. He then said we were free to leave, but asked that the locals should stay behind. We insisted that we couldn't leave them behind, but would wait for them. We were told to wait outside. So, with a sigh of relief we shook hands with the 3 men. The first guy had disappeared at some point. For an odd second, I felt like asking the men if i could take a picture with them. I don't think that would have gone over so well.

We waited outside reflecting on what just happened. I think we were all too relieved to analyze it objectively. When we got back, we had a quick consult. Some of us were a little spooked by the short, fat man. We also pondered over the many questions they had asked us, and like an epiphany we felt that they were sizing us up for a robbery. We felt sure that none of those men would rob us, but one of them (specifically the short one) could hire a bunch of thugs to do it for him. So, we decided that the safest thing to do was to peace out that night. Of course, the down side to us leaving that night was the possibility of breaking down in the middle of Nyungwe forest. Scary thought! Breaking down in the middle of the night, in the middle of the thickest forest I have ever seen is not a pleasant idea. Anyway, God was on our side that night. We safely made it through the cloudy forest, with little or no visibility in some parts. We arrived Kigali around 3 in the morning and that was the first time our group traveled during the night in our 2 months in Rwanda. We all felt really bad for leaving the people in Cyangugu in such a rush.

Our last week in Kigali was pretty laid back. We said our goodbye's and on our last night played the Baha'i version of spin the bottle, where instead of making out with the person you tell them their amazing qualities. It was really sweet.

"And ever has it been known that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation."
- Khalil Gibran

I miss you guys!