June 13, 2009
This evening Shirley has some acquaintances over, primarily from her Center for Gender, Culture, and Development - all women. I felt obliged to join their company, if only briefly, but I became interested in their discussion of strategies to bolster the center and gauge public interest. This somehow turned to a comparative analysis of the 1994 genocide and the Holocaust, considering parallels and the strengths of such.
- strategic planning - YES
- propaganda - YES
- scapegoating of the "other" - YES
- "overt differences" in the target groups - NO
- institutionalization and participation - NO
One of the visiting professors working with Shirley is researching Umuganda, a community work day which falls the last Saturday of each month. She is interested in the evolution of its history and the international influence upon the local activity taken (e.g. theme of May Umuganda was "customer care" - largely influenced by Joe Ritchie, American businessman). With changed use throughout history, cultural perception has also changed. For example, during the genocides, umuganda was used as a collective call to participate in the killings. Now the state is trying to shift the purpose and the perception to a nationalist, unifying call to better and progress Rwanda. However, for those targeted in the genocide, each Umuganda might be simply a reminder of organized mass murder.
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Pampers are for babies
After a conversation with Sarah about the way in which her every action is critically observed - not necessarily to find fault but to observe her strange muzungu ways (as a model or simply a object of comparison) and to determine her attitude toward the Rwandese, I was conscious of all I did (in a good way) and of the way others perceived and treated me. Sarah explained that she was always conscious to never take more than one piece of pineapple at lunch at Sonrise; otherwise, she may be sending the message that muzungu thinks she is entitled to more pineapple than everyone else. There are countless examples of simply trying to act as Rwandese do - distinction, in this sense, can be avoided and should be when possible. We, ex-pats in general, should be communicating to the Rwandese that we do not think ourselves superior in any way, and the greatest way to do that is through our actions, particularly the small, everyday behaviors.
Therefore, I have been particularly sensitive to any seemingly special treatment that I receive at UOB. Some examples for your consideration:
- In preparation for a branch opening, my boss asked me and all other interns to arrive at 7:30 a.m. so that we may leave by 8:00. I arrived on time, having skipped breakfast in order to do so. No other interns arrived for at least 15 minutes. My boss gave me a white UOB polo shirt and also, on account of my punctuality, and UOB hat. I was excited to have some UOB gear, especially some that looked so professional, but when the other interns arrived, they all received different shirts - grey t-shirts. I began to feel uneasy about my distinctive attire - which happened to be the same as my boss and other executives. Why should I, the young muzungu, resemble the management? Additionally, when we prepared to leave, I as a very small person was ready to sit in the very back seat, but my boss Laurent seemed shocked at such an insupportable idea. I assured him it was no problem, but he remained a bit confused and surprised. Jim Crow bus law revisited - but in his attitude? It is as if he has encountered so many muzungus who are not content if they are not in the front seat, least scrunched, in the path of the air-conditioning, etc. that he cannot imagine a different scenario. This same front seat/back seat confusion has become rather routine.
- There are a number of local interns, who rotate periodically from department to department, and two international interns, including myself. The internationals are more stationary, simply having projects assigned to them from the higher ups. This in and of itself makes me a little uneasy, although I understand the purpose in having our internships designed differently. However, the setup seems to highlight UOB's diverging purposes in granting internships: generally, the local interns gain greater knowledge and experience in their respective fields (extract), and internationals contribute valuable, needed knowledge and experience gained through university study (input). Recently, this setup has slightly changed in a way that alarmed me: Laurent assigned one of the local interns to be my assistant. I told him several times that I do not need an assistant, though I appreciate his consideration and know that Harriet is very competent, but that I do not want to interrupt Harriet's internship - she certainly has more important things to be doing than helping me. Yet he assured me that it was no bother - if ever I needed something translated or some help with a project, I could go to Harriet for help.
I do not know if my race, gender, perceived knowledge, or some other thing is the cause for these actions, but I am severely concerned that Laurent's intentions to convenience me are having detrimental effects on my relationships with the local interns (and perhaps other Rwandese in the office), despite my repeated refusal of his pampering.
Therefore, I have been particularly sensitive to any seemingly special treatment that I receive at UOB. Some examples for your consideration:
- In preparation for a branch opening, my boss asked me and all other interns to arrive at 7:30 a.m. so that we may leave by 8:00. I arrived on time, having skipped breakfast in order to do so. No other interns arrived for at least 15 minutes. My boss gave me a white UOB polo shirt and also, on account of my punctuality, and UOB hat. I was excited to have some UOB gear, especially some that looked so professional, but when the other interns arrived, they all received different shirts - grey t-shirts. I began to feel uneasy about my distinctive attire - which happened to be the same as my boss and other executives. Why should I, the young muzungu, resemble the management? Additionally, when we prepared to leave, I as a very small person was ready to sit in the very back seat, but my boss Laurent seemed shocked at such an insupportable idea. I assured him it was no problem, but he remained a bit confused and surprised. Jim Crow bus law revisited - but in his attitude? It is as if he has encountered so many muzungus who are not content if they are not in the front seat, least scrunched, in the path of the air-conditioning, etc. that he cannot imagine a different scenario. This same front seat/back seat confusion has become rather routine.
- There are a number of local interns, who rotate periodically from department to department, and two international interns, including myself. The internationals are more stationary, simply having projects assigned to them from the higher ups. This in and of itself makes me a little uneasy, although I understand the purpose in having our internships designed differently. However, the setup seems to highlight UOB's diverging purposes in granting internships: generally, the local interns gain greater knowledge and experience in their respective fields (extract), and internationals contribute valuable, needed knowledge and experience gained through university study (input). Recently, this setup has slightly changed in a way that alarmed me: Laurent assigned one of the local interns to be my assistant. I told him several times that I do not need an assistant, though I appreciate his consideration and know that Harriet is very competent, but that I do not want to interrupt Harriet's internship - she certainly has more important things to be doing than helping me. Yet he assured me that it was no bother - if ever I needed something translated or some help with a project, I could go to Harriet for help.
I do not know if my race, gender, perceived knowledge, or some other thing is the cause for these actions, but I am severely concerned that Laurent's intentions to convenience me are having detrimental effects on my relationships with the local interns (and perhaps other Rwandese in the office), despite my repeated refusal of his pampering.
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Where does the good go?
June 11, 2009
This morning I went to my travel wallet to get a couple more bills and was shocked and confused at what I saw. The brown enveloped that help all my Rwandan francs (from having exchanged $400) was not in the wallet. I certainly had not moved it. Next, I opened the pocket to check for my American cash - all fresh, crisp, new $100 bills - GONE.
At first, I did not know what to do. I literally stood there, trying to sort through the situation in my mind. I knew I should notify someone, so I went to tell Shirley right away. She of course was deeply grieved and began asking me several questions. Once Yolande, our housekeeper, arrived, they together sought to determine how this happened.
The emotion of the loss and the violation hit me in waves intermittently. I was determined not to let this disrupt the great day I had planned visiting the International Justice Mission (IJM), but it was difficult to see how it would not, as I was in and out of tears.
The journey to IJM itself was an adventure. I was to go to the Ministry of Justice and walk a bit from there. I got a moto and began the ride; however, it soon becae clear that my driver was not sure where the Ministry was located. We stopped a number of times to discuss its locations with other locals and finally stumbled upon it. I reluctantly gave him 800 francs. I had mixed feelings about it.
1) These were all the 100s I had left.
2) He did not know where he was going and therefore inconvenienced me.
3) He did try very hard to get me to the Ministry.
4) 800 francs is less than $2.
Upon finding IJM (after first knocking on the wrong door), we had a morning prayer, and I was then given an office tour briefly. Everyone in the office seems so friendly and driven. I then accompanied Bridgette to the field (to the Jali sector) to visit a cooperative and some clients.
A mother and daughter who cultivate crops together on limited land explained their position of constant vulnerability, as male relatives take everything of value from them: money, harvests, chickens, etc. They are simply trying to figure out how to survive and become independent of these men who continually exploit them. The more I considered their story, the sadder I became, for this situation is probably not uncommon. Evidence that womenare the poorest of the poor.
I thoroughly enjoyed seeing IJM and the work they do - truly considering a similar placement in the future. Hadley said they are hoping to build more partnerships with other NGOs, as their purposes and visions overlap. I think that is key, as many organizations address similar issues and similar target groups but in an isolated way. A more consolidated effort to solve the very same problem would obviously be more effective.
Another consideration - in speaking to people at IJM, they each had different timelines for entering this type of work. Some came straight out of college, and others made themselves a financial cushion working in large corporate legal firms before entering their field of true interest. I cannot decide which is better, if there really is a better path. In time, I will have to decide myself.
Upon returning home, I began to try to settle my money issues more completely and learned of the extensive efforts being made by various people, particularly Shirley and Yolande. They went to the police station after having spoken to people in the neighborhoos (other guards, etc.) and learning that Deo, our gardener, had left yesterday morning unusually with a large bag, saying that Shirley had given him leave. Shirley and Yolande spent several hours at the station, and subsequently, Yolande went with Claude, a former guard of ours, to Deo's home. Tom Allen has also been very concerned and helped me find the best way to receive additional money with Bridge2Rwanda's help. I hate to have caused so much stress and inconconvenience to so many people - it truly is amazing the waves this has caused.
For Shirley, she has lost a trusted staff member. Deo has worked for her for two years.He is like a son. She had rarely doubted him. Now she must witness and undergo this horrible situation and try to find someone trustworthy to replace him.
For Deo, his life is potentially ruined. He has a wife with possible health problems and three sons. If he is caught, he will certainly be arrested, beaten, imprisoned, raped, and infected with HIV. According to Shirley, such is the Rwandan criminal processing procedure.
For me, it is an unfortunate, confusing situation that has taught me to be alert, aware, cautious, safe at all time; however, I am still learning how to separate that from a resentful, bitter, cynical attitude, expecting the worst. Also, I found myself confused at having all my money stolen from my travel wallet inside my backpack while my camera and my ipod remained - both were in plain sight.
In discussing the matter with the other ladies of the house, some unexpected issues arose (at least unexpected to me). Shirley is planning to hire a private investigator but worries this will upset Yolande, as she thinks Yolande will want to handle the matter herself. Tupo brought up the Hutu/Tutsi issue: the PI is a Tutsi; Yolande, Claude, and Deo are Hutu. Tupo said, "Well, the Tutsis are the ones running the country. A Tutsi will be the one to solve this problem. Not a Hutu." - using code names the whole time ("H" / "T"). It seems odd to me that those identities remain so politically charged in social dynamics, but I suppose change take time, particularly when it comes to attitudes toward identity (others' and one's own).
This morning I went to my travel wallet to get a couple more bills and was shocked and confused at what I saw. The brown enveloped that help all my Rwandan francs (from having exchanged $400) was not in the wallet. I certainly had not moved it. Next, I opened the pocket to check for my American cash - all fresh, crisp, new $100 bills - GONE.
At first, I did not know what to do. I literally stood there, trying to sort through the situation in my mind. I knew I should notify someone, so I went to tell Shirley right away. She of course was deeply grieved and began asking me several questions. Once Yolande, our housekeeper, arrived, they together sought to determine how this happened.
The emotion of the loss and the violation hit me in waves intermittently. I was determined not to let this disrupt the great day I had planned visiting the International Justice Mission (IJM), but it was difficult to see how it would not, as I was in and out of tears.
The journey to IJM itself was an adventure. I was to go to the Ministry of Justice and walk a bit from there. I got a moto and began the ride; however, it soon becae clear that my driver was not sure where the Ministry was located. We stopped a number of times to discuss its locations with other locals and finally stumbled upon it. I reluctantly gave him 800 francs. I had mixed feelings about it.
1) These were all the 100s I had left.
2) He did not know where he was going and therefore inconvenienced me.
3) He did try very hard to get me to the Ministry.
4) 800 francs is less than $2.
Upon finding IJM (after first knocking on the wrong door), we had a morning prayer, and I was then given an office tour briefly. Everyone in the office seems so friendly and driven. I then accompanied Bridgette to the field (to the Jali sector) to visit a cooperative and some clients.
A mother and daughter who cultivate crops together on limited land explained their position of constant vulnerability, as male relatives take everything of value from them: money, harvests, chickens, etc. They are simply trying to figure out how to survive and become independent of these men who continually exploit them. The more I considered their story, the sadder I became, for this situation is probably not uncommon. Evidence that womenare the poorest of the poor.
I thoroughly enjoyed seeing IJM and the work they do - truly considering a similar placement in the future. Hadley said they are hoping to build more partnerships with other NGOs, as their purposes and visions overlap. I think that is key, as many organizations address similar issues and similar target groups but in an isolated way. A more consolidated effort to solve the very same problem would obviously be more effective.
Another consideration - in speaking to people at IJM, they each had different timelines for entering this type of work. Some came straight out of college, and others made themselves a financial cushion working in large corporate legal firms before entering their field of true interest. I cannot decide which is better, if there really is a better path. In time, I will have to decide myself.
Upon returning home, I began to try to settle my money issues more completely and learned of the extensive efforts being made by various people, particularly Shirley and Yolande. They went to the police station after having spoken to people in the neighborhoos (other guards, etc.) and learning that Deo, our gardener, had left yesterday morning unusually with a large bag, saying that Shirley had given him leave. Shirley and Yolande spent several hours at the station, and subsequently, Yolande went with Claude, a former guard of ours, to Deo's home. Tom Allen has also been very concerned and helped me find the best way to receive additional money with Bridge2Rwanda's help. I hate to have caused so much stress and inconconvenience to so many people - it truly is amazing the waves this has caused.
For Shirley, she has lost a trusted staff member. Deo has worked for her for two years.He is like a son. She had rarely doubted him. Now she must witness and undergo this horrible situation and try to find someone trustworthy to replace him.
For Deo, his life is potentially ruined. He has a wife with possible health problems and three sons. If he is caught, he will certainly be arrested, beaten, imprisoned, raped, and infected with HIV. According to Shirley, such is the Rwandan criminal processing procedure.
For me, it is an unfortunate, confusing situation that has taught me to be alert, aware, cautious, safe at all time; however, I am still learning how to separate that from a resentful, bitter, cynical attitude, expecting the worst. Also, I found myself confused at having all my money stolen from my travel wallet inside my backpack while my camera and my ipod remained - both were in plain sight.
In discussing the matter with the other ladies of the house, some unexpected issues arose (at least unexpected to me). Shirley is planning to hire a private investigator but worries this will upset Yolande, as she thinks Yolande will want to handle the matter herself. Tupo brought up the Hutu/Tutsi issue: the PI is a Tutsi; Yolande, Claude, and Deo are Hutu. Tupo said, "Well, the Tutsis are the ones running the country. A Tutsi will be the one to solve this problem. Not a Hutu." - using code names the whole time ("H" / "T"). It seems odd to me that those identities remain so politically charged in social dynamics, but I suppose change take time, particularly when it comes to attitudes toward identity (others' and one's own).
Confessions of the Religious Devout, Conservative Rwandese Youth
President Paul Kagame's photo hangs solemnly, authoritatively, and dignified in nearly every Rwandan business I have entered. I began to wonder why. Does the population love and revere him and his mission for developing and renewing Rwanda? Is this a political tactic to instill allegiance and commitment to the rule of law? So I asked some local interns at UOB - Do you love him or fear him? Do you agree with his mission or fear the repercussions of noncompliance?
Their responses reflected much about the quality of democracy in Rwanda and attitudes toward such. Kagame is leader and therefore demands respect, but he was democratically elected. One of his greatest platforms is anti-corruption, demonstrating equality under the law. The people believe it and expect it, expecting judicial actions for a violation regardless of class, social connections, etc. (respect for rule of law). It is promising for development here if one respects institutions' credibility absolutely.
President Kagame, and the nation in general, in an effort to further make progress, says, "Never again!" in reference to the 1994 genocide. However, I have wondered at the population's commitment to this sentiment broadly. Openly no one can identify as Hutu or Tutsi, but inwardly do they still? Do they still harbor feelings of resentment and bitterness, drawing lines of distinction in this minds?
Two anecdotes for your consideration:
1) Various programs boast a spirit of cooperation and reconciliation, not at all recognizing former divisions and wrongs. Instead, all work together as Rwandans toward progress and a better future (e.g. Sonrise School)
2) An acquaintance of Tom's (a local) said she could certainly tell which group a person belonged to. Tom was intrigued by this statement and asked her to prove it - pointing to a random person on the street. She could not determine their classification and said that in that particular case it was difficult to say. This process was repeated a few times with the same results. However, her belief that she could definitively classify persons in her mind (and therefore does) is telling and frightening.
I am not sure which attitude is more sincere and more representative of the population. I certainly hope the former, though as previously deliberated - attitudes are difficult to change, and the tendency to assign labels to people is natural though not necessarily excusable for that reason.
According to Sarah, the Rwandese do not like Obama (in great contrast to Ghanaians). I of course must do my own field research. She said that on account of the influence of religion here, Rwandan culture is so conservative, and Rwandese consider aspects of Obama's liberal leadership immoral, such as the promotion of gay rights. It is illegal to be homosexual in Rwanda.
Their responses reflected much about the quality of democracy in Rwanda and attitudes toward such. Kagame is leader and therefore demands respect, but he was democratically elected. One of his greatest platforms is anti-corruption, demonstrating equality under the law. The people believe it and expect it, expecting judicial actions for a violation regardless of class, social connections, etc. (respect for rule of law). It is promising for development here if one respects institutions' credibility absolutely.
President Kagame, and the nation in general, in an effort to further make progress, says, "Never again!" in reference to the 1994 genocide. However, I have wondered at the population's commitment to this sentiment broadly. Openly no one can identify as Hutu or Tutsi, but inwardly do they still? Do they still harbor feelings of resentment and bitterness, drawing lines of distinction in this minds?
Two anecdotes for your consideration:
1) Various programs boast a spirit of cooperation and reconciliation, not at all recognizing former divisions and wrongs. Instead, all work together as Rwandans toward progress and a better future (e.g. Sonrise School)
2) An acquaintance of Tom's (a local) said she could certainly tell which group a person belonged to. Tom was intrigued by this statement and asked her to prove it - pointing to a random person on the street. She could not determine their classification and said that in that particular case it was difficult to say. This process was repeated a few times with the same results. However, her belief that she could definitively classify persons in her mind (and therefore does) is telling and frightening.
I am not sure which attitude is more sincere and more representative of the population. I certainly hope the former, though as previously deliberated - attitudes are difficult to change, and the tendency to assign labels to people is natural though not necessarily excusable for that reason.
According to Sarah, the Rwandese do not like Obama (in great contrast to Ghanaians). I of course must do my own field research. She said that on account of the influence of religion here, Rwandan culture is so conservative, and Rwandese consider aspects of Obama's liberal leadership immoral, such as the promotion of gay rights. It is illegal to be homosexual in Rwanda.
The Rules of the Road
I am still trying to decide the value in walking to work. It is about a 30- to 35-minute walk at a brisk pace, largely uphill (and steeply). By the time I arrive at the office, I feel I have gotten somewhat of a workout and am glistening [glisten - to begin to sweat slightly so that one's skin reflects light and shines ever so slightly and is somewhat moist and slippery to the touch] - not ideal for going to work in the morning though a good counterbalance to some of the food I have been eating. It is nice to walk outside in such nice temperature, but the traffic and pollution is quite another story. Cars and motos (i.e. motorcycle taxis) have little regard for pedestrians. I almost got run over a couple times today in my determination to continue uphill or cross a street. I obviously have not adjusted to traffic etiquette or lack thereof here. I must lose my "I rule the road as a university student pedestrian" attitude and quickly or I will surely die.
Did I miss the memo?
June 3, 2009
First day of work - Jeffrey Lee (CEO ofUrwego Opportunity Bank) and I met this morning, and he explained his intended placements for me - marketing research and editing. When I met the guys I would be working with in marketing, they were preparing to leave soon for a branch office to assess strategies for improvement and change - I tagged along. We took the public bus system - comparable to the Ghanaiantro-tro - with bodies squashed in for maximum efficiency. The crammed bodies, the smells, the inexplicable touching made me comfortable, though I tried not to dwell on it and attempted to shake my seemingly snobby attitude. Two things on the ride though particularly bothered me:
1. The girl next to me was vomiting throughout the ride and leaning on me (even while vomiting) - her head, her arms, etc. I was not sure what was making her sick, and therefore her proximity to me made me nervous. I hoped she was just car-sick.
2. My boss may or may not be a pervert. I was nodding off during the ride, and he urged me to lean into him, put his arm around me to brace me, etc. (Mind you, this is like an hour after I met him for the first time). I refused, but he insisted. ALERT. A few minutes later in my pseudo-slumber, I noticed a somewhat firm grip of both his hands on both of my shoulders with his fingers moving individually occasionally. I was not sure whether to stop it immediately or whether I was jumping to conclusions too quickly. Either way, I was uncomfortable, so when an opportunity presented itself, I "woke up." [I later asked my Malawian housemateTupo who has lived here for about two years about this incident and about personal boundaries/touch in general. She said Rwandans are rather affectionate - friends hold hands, etc. - but this incident seemed very strange to her.]
Luckily, one thing redeemed the ride - the scenery. Continuous lush, green hills terraced with agriculture and sprinkled with the occasional house or town. Unfortunately, I had not expected a road trip on my first day of work, so I failed to bring my camera. Lesson: carry my camera at all times.
In the Karongi region (our destination), I received much attention. People in this rural village had rarely, if ever, seen a white person. So children and adults alike would stare at me, some obviously intrigued, others confused or frightened. One little boy came right up to me, held my hand, smiled, and ran a short distance away to play, looking over and smiling at me intermittently.
First day of work - Jeffrey Lee (CEO ofUrwego Opportunity Bank) and I met this morning, and he explained his intended placements for me - marketing research and editing. When I met the guys I would be working with in marketing, they were preparing to leave soon for a branch office to assess strategies for improvement and change - I tagged along. We took the public bus system - comparable to the Ghanaiantro-tro - with bodies squashed in for maximum efficiency. The crammed bodies, the smells, the inexplicable touching made me comfortable, though I tried not to dwell on it and attempted to shake my seemingly snobby attitude. Two things on the ride though particularly bothered me:
1. The girl next to me was vomiting throughout the ride and leaning on me (even while vomiting) - her head, her arms, etc. I was not sure what was making her sick, and therefore her proximity to me made me nervous. I hoped she was just car-sick.
2. My boss may or may not be a pervert. I was nodding off during the ride, and he urged me to lean into him, put his arm around me to brace me, etc. (Mind you, this is like an hour after I met him for the first time). I refused, but he insisted. ALERT. A few minutes later in my pseudo-slumber, I noticed a somewhat firm grip of both his hands on both of my shoulders with his fingers moving individually occasionally. I was not sure whether to stop it immediately or whether I was jumping to conclusions too quickly. Either way, I was uncomfortable, so when an opportunity presented itself, I "woke up." [I later asked my Malawian housemateTupo who has lived here for about two years about this incident and about personal boundaries/touch in general. She said Rwandans are rather affectionate - friends hold hands, etc. - but this incident seemed very strange to her.]
Luckily, one thing redeemed the ride - the scenery. Continuous lush, green hills terraced with agriculture and sprinkled with the occasional house or town. Unfortunately, I had not expected a road trip on my first day of work, so I failed to bring my camera. Lesson: carry my camera at all times.
In the Karongi region (our destination), I received much attention. People in this rural village had rarely, if ever, seen a white person. So children and adults alike would stare at me, some obviously intrigued, others confused or frightened. One little boy came right up to me, held my hand, smiled, and ran a short distance away to play, looking over and smiling at me intermittently.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
How does THIS history repeat itself?
June 1, 2009
I have been in Rwanda for a few days now but do not start my internship for a few more days. My boss and "host" thought having a few days to settle in and get to know Kigali would be helpful and favorable to me. I agreed, initially, but not I am getting restless to begin working. Relaxation is nice, but I feel like a bum. I must develop a demanding schedule soon - yes, I am definitely a Barnhart.
This morning I went to the Kigali Memorial Centre. The memorial was so extensive with panel after panel of information about the history of, data concerning, and implications of the genocide. I obviously learned a lot.
Key point #1 - For clarification, Tutsi v. Hutu = economic division rather than ethnic. These groups spoke the same language, practiced the same religion, intermarried regularly, etc. This was instead an imposed identity conflict, imposed through colonization to more effectively govern through indirect rule --> manipulating existing social dynamics takes less effort and fewer resources than cultural assimilation.
Key point #2 - Genocides require planning. This was not a spontaneous act of violence but rather something that was rehearsed and planned over the course of decades.
I have been in Rwanda for a few days now but do not start my internship for a few more days. My boss and "host" thought having a few days to settle in and get to know Kigali would be helpful and favorable to me. I agreed, initially, but not I am getting restless to begin working. Relaxation is nice, but I feel like a bum. I must develop a demanding schedule soon - yes, I am definitely a Barnhart.
This morning I went to the Kigali Memorial Centre. The memorial was so extensive with panel after panel of information about the history of, data concerning, and implications of the genocide. I obviously learned a lot.
Key point #1 - For clarification, Tutsi v. Hutu = economic division rather than ethnic. These groups spoke the same language, practiced the same religion, intermarried regularly, etc. This was instead an imposed identity conflict, imposed through colonization to more effectively govern through indirect rule --> manipulating existing social dynamics takes less effort and fewer resources than cultural assimilation.
Key point #2 - Genocides require planning. This was not a spontaneous act of violence but rather something that was rehearsed and planned over the course of decades.
The memorial has a segment on other genocides - historical, international. I found this extremely interesting and informative, educating me about those I was far less familiar with and allowing me to draw connections between them all.
-Armenia
- Namibia
- Holocaust
- Cambodia
- Balkans
Unfortunately, the list does go on.
-Armenia
- Namibia
- Holocaust
- Cambodia
- Balkans
Unfortunately, the list does go on.
Tom said to take my time, so I did. I probably spent two hours in the memorial. While in the exhibits, I experienced a variety of emotions in waves: confusion, sadness, anger, frustration, disbelief. I cannot understand how human beings can continue to treat each other with such brutality. It is as if we cannot live without differentiating ourselves and others with labels, precipitating an us v. them mentality.
How could an imposed difference between the Rwandese persist and escalate like it did?
Where is the boundary between protection of state sovereignty/autonomy and the pursuit of justice in cases like the 1994 genocide? At what point is intervention appropriate?
Needless to say, it got me thinking...
How could an imposed difference between the Rwandese persist and escalate like it did?
Where is the boundary between protection of state sovereignty/autonomy and the pursuit of justice in cases like the 1994 genocide? At what point is intervention appropriate?
Needless to say, it got me thinking...
As Tom and I spent basically the whole day together, one of my worries was realized. Yesterday, I was talking with Tupo about my anxiety in meeting and dealing with all sorts of people familiar with my family, as I know there are high expectations for my character, behavior, attitudes, etc. I do not want to disappoint and reflect badly upon my family. To the point - Tom and others have been asking about my parents, and I am reluctant to tell them the whole story because I do not want any judgment to fall, but the more I say, the more I must explain, as Tom has persistent and penetrating questions. Insert foot in mouth.
Tonight at Torero I met a Rwandese fellow who works at the National Democratic Institute. We had an engaging conversation about the quality of Rwandan democracy based on party competition, setup of the proportional representation system, respect for the rule of law, protection of civil liberties, and legal revisions of the constitution (particularly concerning electoral procedures).
RPF - by far the largest, strongest party
women guaranteed about 30% of seats
post-conflict reforms --> progress
I hope to speak wit him more/drop by his office - I got his card.
Tonight at Torero I met a Rwandese fellow who works at the National Democratic Institute. We had an engaging conversation about the quality of Rwandan democracy based on party competition, setup of the proportional representation system, respect for the rule of law, protection of civil liberties, and legal revisions of the constitution (particularly concerning electoral procedures).
RPF - by far the largest, strongest party
women guaranteed about 30% of seats
post-conflict reforms --> progress
I hope to speak wit him more/drop by his office - I got his card.
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