I was thrilled to be able to attend this event, having heard so much about it. Yet again, life seems to be about the connections you make, as I was able to go solely because I knew one of the organizers. She got our names on the list - I felt so posh, for better or worse.
Upon arriving at the event grounds, it became clear that this event celebrating Rwanda's gorillas, their conservation, and ultimately the benefits the gorilla tourism industry has had on the state had a primary audience - the well-to-do and influential - and a secondary audience - everyone else. These audiences were geographically segregated and received differing attention in entertainment and refreshment. The former sat beneath a white tent in chairs, were provided with a several complimentary breakfast options from local sponsors' booths, and were later provided with a complimentary lunch (including alcoholic beverages). On the other hand, the latter group stood in the sun, physically contained behind fences manned by police.
The ceremony was full of a variety performances -singing (including the von Trapps singing the national anthem), dancing, theatrics - most of which I thoroughly enjoyed (I recorded many clips with the flipcam I borrowed from Blayne Sharp). However, only one performer particularly played to the local crowd - a rapper who apparently is very famous here. A few of us muzungus even danced (generally awkwardly) to his bumpin' music.
Eventually, the awaited naming occurred. Those happy few made their way to the stage in their shining robes, introduced themselves, and explained their chosen name - perhaps in context of their particular gorilla. The selection of names was generally inspirational and all in Kinyarwanda, I think. I will upload video clips soon if possible.
Once lunch arrived, evryone made a mad dash for the lunch tent, skipping and pushing to be nearest the buffet line. I found the distant end of the line, which proceeded to remain at an absolute standstill for probably 20 minutes. Many people skipped me, a young, unimposing musungu girl, but I was hesitant to say anything about this on account of my relative social position and the message my doing so might send - not only on my behalf but Americans' and muzungus' more generally.
The man behind me, a student, persistently though (I believe) inadvertently bumped into me, alerting me to my unknown personal boundary sensitivity. I tried to find a balance between leaving a bit of space between the person in front of me and myself and conveying my resolve in not being skipped further. Eventually, the student behind me leaned forward and asked me, "Do you talk?" and we, along with some of his fellow students, struck up a conversation. They suggested I skip to the front of the line, but I was very uneasy about this recommendation. I told them that I did not appreciate being skipped, so why would I do that to all these poeple who have been waiting like I have? They nodded as if they understood and appreciated my reasoning.
After a lunch that may actually have been worth the wait - free and delicious - Tom, Kelly, and I made our way to Tom's car. On the way, we were accosted by a group of probably 30 primary school age children. They asked us about ourselves and persistently but sweetly requested we give them things - money, pens, a football, a French-English dictionary, etc. I truly thought they might swarm the car when we began to open the doors. Somehow three boys even managed to bargain a lift from Tom. Tom, Kelly, and I suspected though that they simply wanted to have the experience of riding in an automobile and that we may have driven them away rather than toward their homes. When they entered the car, they were all smiles and excitement, but when they left, they looked a bit weary and overwhelmed, perhaps thinking, "Was that a good idea? How much farther must I walk now!"
Upon arriving back at the house, I found everyone in such a flurry in preparations for a dinner party of grand proportions. Sarah had gone to great lengths to make this shindig a success:
- She had made tortillas from scratch for the fajitas.
- She had woken up very early this morning to go to the market to purchase cuts of beef for the fajitas; however, she had to return several times, as the cow had not yet been slaughtered. After buying the beef, she trimmed and prepared the meat alongwith rice, guacamole, two cakes (chocolate and yellow), and baked chips from chapatti bread.
- She was cooking and baking all day, sacrificing her opportunity to attend Quita Izina to provide this meal for us.
But it was successful - quite the meal - with lively guests and conversation. Among the guests were two Rwandese sisters and genocide survivors. They told us some of their story and their opinions on international issues - so glad to have met them. They live and work in Kigali, so I hope to hang out with them frequently.
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