On the road again.....

I had a lovely sojourn to Kigali last week via a little bus called “Yahoo Express!” The driver was a bit of a yahoo—most aggressive driving yet on these roads. Once or twice I thought there would be an accident because of his ambition to get to the border crossing before the other buses. Road rage is alive and well here too. Both Burundi and Rwanda are gorgeous countries and with the rain just begun, what was already green seems to be even more luscious. I left Bujumbura at 7:30 am and arrived in Kigali around 2:00 pm. Rwanda is called “Land of 1,000 Hills” and makes for spectacular scenery along the way. At the border, the Rwandese immigration officer greeted me and exclaimed, “You’re a saint!” when he saw my name. “Apparently,” I replied, laughing, “but only because of my father.” After he stamped my passport, he said that he was glad to know his country now had a saint in it. Had I mentioned the immigration officer from DRC who told me my name was wrong—that it should be St. Yvette since I was a woman?
In Kigali, I met an American who is doing her master’s in South Africa and was just beginning some research in Rwanda. I enjoyed our supper conversation at the Guest House. Turns out she is friends with an American that I met in Bujumbura and she told me he was in town for training and was staying the next night with us. We had a good time—I have to admit that I needed to chat in English and laugh for a long time. It did almost as much for my soul as the beautiful scenery. I can get so serious here that it is extremely important to continually and consciously seek to find balance.
Friday after interviewing a man about mediation and some other projects Quaker Friends are doing in Kigali, I decided to jump on a public bus and head into town with a woman and her fiancé since I had broken my comb that morning. I went down to the local supermarket—Nakumatt—and got a new one. The adventure, of course, began when I had to make my way back to the Guest House solo (no laughing yet, ML!!). I found the right bus, and suddenly found myself alone but I refused to get off because I was sure it was going further. It was indeed! However, it stopped again and the assistant said something that I thought meant I had to get off. So I did, just as about 50 other people were trying to get on. I lost my spot. I stood there watching the bus pull away and then looked up at the sky, and shook my head. Though it was 1:30 in the afternoon, the sky was black. I knew I did not have much time to stand around, waiting for another bus. I saw a taxi scooter, and decided to jump on it. Loved it!! A little scary here and there since scooters don’t get too much respect but I arrived safe and dry and that is all that counts.
The woman who was getting married the next day had invited me to her dowry exchange which was supposed to be at 9:00 am. My supervisor and I were leaving for DRC at noon. True to the African understanding of time, we waited two hours without even seeing the groom. Too bad!! I did see the bride who was one of many women getting married on Valentine’s Day in Kigali.
The trip to Goma was uneventful. I facilitated another session on grieving to a small group of people who are working with trauma victims. I did not return to the IDP camp but I did talk to the Goma Relief Committee and told them that the St. Ignatius Refugee Committee would like to partner with them in the coming year and try to assist them financially. They were thrilled and thanked us for our compassion. They are doing such good work and even with Nkunda arrested there is still much instability and uncertainty in the area. When asked what Nkunda’s arrest meant, one of the elders, a man with excellent English (he was the first Congolese to study in the USA), retorted with a shrug and a twinkle in his eye, that he was under house arrest. As he talked, the image that came to mind was that of Martha Stewart—not really a very serious punishment. Sounds like a “Let’s make a deal!” scenario.
One of the men who was my interpreter and chauffeur last trip to Goma had, while attempting to change a tire on a vehicle, accidently had his leg run over. He amazingly only suffered a dislocation and some torn ligaments or something. He is in rough shape but it could have been much worse in many ways. Prayers for his recovery are appreciated since health care here leaves something to be desired. He has some other minor injuries but they could end up being severe if doctors do not treat him properly. One concern is that he is in a full leg cast but has a pretty severe wound to his leg which is not being exposed to the air or treated in any fashion.
I did manage to eat something that did not agree with me and took half an Immodium to survive the 3.5 hour bus trip back to Kigali. I am a fan now and will no longer roll my eyes at those silly hot tub commercials touting the abilities of the drug. I was not too sick but it was a wee bit of an adventure. For the most part I have done fairly well with food and water and have remained quite well.
I am back in Bujumbura until Monday when I return to the village where the riot took place. It has been pretty calm there so I hope to have no further incident involving bullets or rocket launchers!!! Jeff, I remember your words of advice to stay out of trouble: trouble = bullets.

Thanks again for all who are following my journey. Lucien, welcome aboard! Glad to see you've joined us. Fr. B, I hear you are back too! Karibu! I am half way through my adventure and will be home in no time! Hard to believe really.

Suz