I guess now is the time to talk about the actual reason we’re here. I enjoy talking about the funny parts of community life and creating a fourth culture in a new country, but there are (unfortunately) serious problems in this part of the world.
The Women’s Day parade I mentioned earlier interrupted one of the sessions carefully planned for us by our co-facilitators, but we forged onward anyway. I have heard from people talking about peace-building, non-violence, the principles of Do No Harm followed by aid agencies, Civil Societies (similar to provincial governments)… That last one I’m still mulling over, trying to decide if they’re just puppets of the government that eat money (but with impressive internal hierarchy, including groups that don’t really exist but result in money in the pocket of their creators) – we’ll see when (if) the president of the Civil Society in this province steps down after his term.
Speaking of which, this country is due to have an election this year (it’s scribbled on something called a constitution or something) but it sounds like no one is expecting one. I gather that people would rather live than die, so I suppose that means no ‘democratic’ elections. The president of Rwanda (who is doing as a good a job as can be expected, really), has extended his term to 2034, so it’s only a matter of time before all African countries have mandated elections. We just have to be patient. In the meantime, if upholding the national constitution and human rights and allowing people to choose the direction of their country (including tax breaks for new businesses and a leader who wishes to develop his country rather than his portfolio) is important to anyone, they had better leave.
[Side Note: The names and titles of previous leaders in Africa are hilarious. Idi Amin's titles included His Excellency, President for Life, Lord of all the Beasts of the Earth and Fishes of the Seas and Conqueror of the British Empire in Africa in General and Uganda in Particular. Mobutu Sese Seko's name meant All-Conquering Warrior, Who Goes From Conquest to Conquest Leaving Fire in His Wake. Personally, I’d stay in power for at least fifty years just to think up more names.]
Those who can’t, stay in camps (refugees) or with host families (Internally Displaced Persons). I think it’s a bearable life. Except when there’s another rush of refugees from some country which believes that ‘Democratic’ is just a great word. Or when the national government suspects that there are armed soldiers hidden among the suffering populace for aid. Or when armed groups step in for their cut of aid (or just to generally rape and pillage). Or when inter-ethnic differences result in massacres and then vengeance. It's no wonder that many people here are named for virtues and an acknowledgment of God's grace - for example, Dieudonne (God-given), Blessing, Hope, Justice, Pendo (love), etc.
I have no idea how it feels to be Rwandan or Burundian here, but I can’t imagine it would be good. I expect that many would have a fear and mistrust of Rwandans, at the very least. This is slightly frightening because locals may judge ethnicities based on looks – which doesn’t seem to have a very high rate of success. And ethnicities matter. People are proud of their tribes and their cultures – as they should be (just not to the point of murder)! There are many locals, of course, who recognize that the growing generation are as much victims as those killed in the genocide and resulting fallouts.
Our speakers try to give us an optimistic, but realistic, view of the world outside our little compound and office. One of them was a feminist beyond compare. I fell half in love with all her ideals and was about to leave everything and join her in her mission with women and pygmies… Until I learned she wasn’t Christian because it promoted the Patriarchy. That hurt. Cut me deep.
A teammate laughed at my insistence on prayer. Another one took me aside to say that one couldn't pray for everything. That hurt too. Was literally sniffling for a while. Womanfully kept from crying in the middle of the day. I used to be this self-reliant, reasonable person. Then God made me this horrific weeping pot and I have no idea what to do with myself. I still believe it: Prayer is the reason I’m here. I’ve done my part in trusting God and coming here, but I am nothing without my prayers. I can do nothing. I cannot hope to help this entire country on my own, and I’m not proud enough to believe that I will make a difference in someone’s life after decades of violence and trauma. My teammates have been in the church for ages, so I’m sure there is reason for them to laugh at me a little – but I went through a period where I didn’t believe prayer was worth anything. And then it provided everything.
I am a confrontational, stubborn 27 year-old Indo-Canadian and I have literally not a gift to my name except what God has given me; I certainly wouldn’t be here without a lot of prayer behind me. I used to feel the same disdain for my second mom when she said she’d pray (it happened a lot). Really, she let an unknown young adult into her home and talked about prayer a lot – she was basically as mad as a frog. Or she was utterly surrendered to God. And now I’m at this point where I look like a mad frog. Crying. It’s horrible.
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At the risk of sounding desperate - PLEASE WRITE TO ME!