Rwanda

My visit to Rwanda has come to an end. It had been on my list for a long time and the visit has been very rewarding.

What is different about it? We all have heard about some of the differences.  It is indeed amazingly tidy. There seems to be an ethic abroad in society that work should be done with great care. I have seen people dig out tiny weeds from cobbled roads and others scraping dirt from brick surfaces. There are decorative plantings everywhere and people are forever pulling weeds out of the lawns. Sweepers swish the leaves off roads and pathways. There is no plastic strewn about, mostly because plastic bags are banned. During Umuganda, often groups just go out and pick up litter.

The country has also felt very safe. People seem extremely friendly and willing to chat. I have felt quite safe walking around after dark. There are low key random police checks out on the country roads but no heavy military presence is evident anywhere. 

The scenery is magnificent everywhere I have been. It is indeed the Country of a Thousand Hills. The countryside is green and lush even at the end of the dry season. Rivers look clean and water is plentiful. Everything that is stuck in the ground grows. The temperature has been surprisingly moderate and varies only between 25 and 30 degrees perhaps year round. It is cooler than neighbours because it is so high up, even though very near the equator.

The only cloud on the horizon seems to be the large population (12 million) in a very small area. Families still tend to be large although there is now new emphasis on family planning and often it is economic pressure and education for women that reduces the birth rate. Rwanda has the highest rate in the world of female political representation in parliament - 65%.

If life is kind, I will be back. There are many adventures still to be had here. 

Umuganda

In 1998, the concept of Umuganda was reintroduced in Rwanda. It had other names and other drivers previously. This time, the idea was to get the peoples of Rwanda to learn to work side by side, in peace, to rebuild a nation brought to its knees by the horrific genocide of 1994.

And so, every last Saturday of the month, starting at 8 am and continuing for 3 or 4 hours, the people are asked to come out and work together on a shared project. Building, repairing, tidying up, creating and landscaping - any kind of project is welcome. Committees throughout the country coordinate the work. This concept is one of the reasons that Rwanda is really different among African nations. 

Of course a national organization on this scale has issues. In some places no one knows how to get started. In others, there is no funding available for projects. Leadership may not work well. But by and large, it has been an extraordinarily successful initiative and it is estimated that up to 80% of the population is involved on any one project day.

The president, Paul Kagame, who has led Rwanda since the end of the genocide, leads by example and joins in in person with a hoe! No one is above physical labour. 

Public transit shuts down during Umuganda. It starts up again at 11 am.  How do you think such an idea, in one form or another, could work in our beautiful country Canada?! In this age of individualism perhaps it would not fly far!   Our pioneers worked together to survive. Why couldn't we?

The Congo Nile Trail

https://photos.app.goo.gl/8jpgfVks7RGVVSUH7. 

The rains have come but adventures must continue! This morning I headed out early with Freddie of Gogisenyi Tours on a mountain bike. We headed for the hills immediately! They are not difficult to find around here! 

Freddie's knowledge of the local countryside allowed us to spend almost all of our time off road and we rode through many villages. The countryside is incredibly lush everywhere and cultivation is in high gear with the arrival of rain. The terrain was very challenging for me as I don't really ride on steep or dangerous trails! The hills were steep and often the trail was a bed of sharp rocks! I felt very relieved to get through the experience without breaking something! 

This Western Province of Rwanda is very beautiful. There is a trail, called the Congo Nile Trail,  which runs all the way down along the east shore of Lake Kivu and tourists are starting to ride and hike it in increasing numbers. You can spend several days on it and stay in camps and lodges on the way. Today I rode the first section of it. 

People are invariably very friendly. Adults and children all call out greetings in many languages. The children were coming and going from school. Adults were all busy tilling the fields, moving goods to market, selling produce and coming to and from Gisenyi. We passed through enormous tea and coffee plantations and saw a very large brewery. Beer is big business here! The locals prepare banana beer and sorghum beer for sale in their local villages. There is a wide selection of commercial beers all brewed in Rwanda. 

This was an exciting combination of seeing Rwanda off the main roads, visiting local villages, getting some good exercise and contributing to a nascent tourism industry. We started in fine weather but towards the end got caught out in a thunder and lightning storm. Twice we had to shelter from heavy rain. I managed to get soaked despite this and now have to dry out naturally, in close to 100% humidity, as I travelled very light from Kigali! 

Felix

Felix

On my first walk along the shores of Lake Kivu, I was accosted by a young man named Felix who wanted to walk and chat. Who could say no?  He needed to walk as he was recovering from a broken leg incurred while playing soccer, a passion around here. He had had a Quebec teacher in school and had learned a lot from him. His father had six wives. Felix was born of the first wife who was deserted long ago, leaving the mother to raise her own family. Felix seemed to know quite a lot about Gisenyi and was able to share with me much of the history of the place. I was a little concerned that he might be walking too far on an injured leg but he protested that it would be fine. 

He lives with his old grandmother in a very modest little house on the hills above the town.  He misses contact with his father who now lives in Uganda with a new family. I enjoyed the walk after my long bus ride and I also enjoyed the stories woven by Felix. 

As with all stories, if they go on long enough, dark clouds will gather. We had toured the entire town, visited the border post I was interested in and explored the large open air market and we were headed back to the hotel when the story moved in an unwelcome direction. Felix was about to sit an important exam tomorrow and could not enter the examination hall with a dictionary. He wondered if I could perhaps find a way to buy him a dictionary so that he could get on with his life.

Well, you can imagine I am now feeling trapped. I quickly resolved to take the high road and explain to my friend Felix that at the beginning of the story he just wanted company on his therapeutic walk and I was happy to provide that as we were going in the same direction and could entertain each other. I took some time to explain that every single encounter with strangers in Rwanda to date had been respectful and friendly and I hoped sincerely that this experience would turn out the same way, I must admit that I also gave a fairly long lecture on the importance of honesty and trust in human relationships. I could feel energy surging as I delved further and further into this delicate area of the human experience.

As I went on interminably about such topics, like a teacher missing his vocation,  I noticed that Felix was no longer keeping pace with me but falling further and further behind. I stopped to check on his wellness and he assured me he was well so I relaunched into my expansive deliberations. When we finally reached my hotel, I extended my hand in friendship, thanked him profusely for his friendship and bade him goodnight. He forced himself to extend his hand too but only managed to touch his fingertips to mine, all the while averting his gaze. There was a pronounced lack of enthusiasm from him now and he muttered as headed off very quietly in the other direction. I sincerely hope he has recovered from his encounter with the tourist from Hell. 

Courage

The solo traveller must be able to draw unexpectedly on reserves of courage. Plans can easily go awry, especially when very far from home, as I am now. I have been exploring Kigali, capital of Rwanda, for several days now. Time is limited so I need to fit more in. Gisenyi, on the shores of Lake Kivu, has been beckoning. It takes maybe five hours on a public bus to get there. Yesterday, I was up early and ready to head out to purchase my bus ticket for today when suddenly all planning was interrupted by a sharp pain in my mid back. It came out of nowhere and with no warning. I was unable to stand and had to just lie down. 

After a few hours, with many negative thoughts trying to invade my general happiness, I felt I could stand and perhaps walk. I limped outside and headed for the bus station. After a few minutes it was obvious that walking was not a good option so I hailed a moto-taxi (see public transit post) and reached Nyabugogo Bus Station quickly. The press of humanity was overwhelming. People, buses, noise, heat everywhere. I made an attempt to get a measure of the lay of the land and then pain forced me to beat a premature retreat, ticketless of course. Not enough courage in my account!

After a surprisingly good sleep overnight, and a very kind post breakfast massage with camphor ointment from the lovely young lady who is taking care of me here, this morning was a different story. I am now able to walk slowly and I got lots of help from friendly people on the way to and at the bus station so I am now in possession of a bus ticket for the morrow, leaving Kigali at 10.30 am. The journey will take around five hours, I think. I am imagining myself having a mountain bike adventure on the Congo Nil Trail on Thursday. May all the stars align.

The crowds thicken as the bus station is near

Visiting long lost family

https://photos.app.goo.gl/HFDVsPzfm1TPuvsC7
https://photos.app.goo.gl/HFDVsPzfm1TPuvsC7

This is the highlight of the trip. I have spent ages preparing. Up at dawn to make hurried preparations, a quick breakfast, and off into the Bwindi Impenetrable Forest in search of mountain gorillas, one of the world's most endangered species. We go through a briefing and registration and are assigned to groups based on fitness. Some gorilla families live far away! Each group has no more than eight visitors. The permits must be bought months in advance. 

I am well dressed for the adventure. There are stinging nettles everywhere so I am wearing winter running tights under my safari pants and running gloves. A long walking pole is needed for steep slopes. Protected by armed guards (protection from mountain elephants)  in front and behind, and a knowledgable guide, we trek out into the forest. 

After two hours, we learn that the trackers are nearby, having struggled with confusing tracks all morning but eventually locating the troupe. We are guided very close to the gorillas who are resting after foraging all morning. The family has 13 members, the leader a splendid silverback. There were several babies in the group, the youngest only 8 months old. We watched as they rested, the adults trying to nap, the babies refusing to do so and amusing us endlessly with their antics as they climbed, fell, wrestled, fed, fought and reconciled. Every now and then the adults would reach out and pull the babies back but they did not rest. 

I was struck by the vulnerability of the 8 month old. His muscle control was very weak but he was very brave as he struggled to explore his environment. He fell about constantly, often ending up upside down back amongst the adults. The young feed from the mother for up to three years, very similar, appropriately, to human young. The expressions of the young were almost invariably astonishment and befuddlement, much to the delight of our group. We enjoyed a full hour of this interaction but the last 15 minutes, the silverback decided the group needed to get back to feeding and we followed them as they set out on their second foraging of the day. They don't necessarily stick closely together as they move through the tight undergrowth in search of their favourite foods. They enjoy a tremendous variety of plants, perhaps over 70, and sometimes treat themselves to ants and termites too.

The silverback is a magnificent creature. He was sitting up straight as we arrived and then he settled down for his nap too. At one stage, he flopped over onto his stomach so we got a beautiful view of his silver back. He participated frequently in care of the young, pulling them back gently to the safety of the group.The silver colouring happens as the male reaches 12/13 years. 

This was one of the most moving experiences I have ever had and when it was over I was overwhelmed by feelings of joy and delight.  This is an opportunity not to be missed, to come into contact with our first cousins for the first time. 

In search of wildlife

Up early and on the road for a game drive. There was actually very little game visible. We were lucky to come across a pride of lions, one sitting up in a candelabra tree and another lying in the shade, very pregnant. At 11 am we arrived at the Kazinga Channel, which joins Lake Edward to Lake George and boarded our boat for a cruise along the banks. The banks were crowded with animals and birds and the boat was able to get very close. We watched herds of elephants come down to drink and there were literally hundreds of hippos in the water. I saw two baby hippos, being carefully guarded by their mothers. Another new sighting - giant forest hog, a larger version of the lowly warthog, the earth's ugliest animal.

Up early and on the road for a game drive in Queen Elizabeth Park, a huge area of land in the Rift Valley. There was actually very little game visible. We were lucky to come across a pride of lions, one sitting up in a candelabra tree and another lying in the shade, very pregnant. Tree climbing lions are quite common in Uganda! It must be much easier to find lunch that way. 
Two hyenas also obliged us, one of them snacking busily on a red leg of something. At 11 am we arrived at the Kazinga Channel, which joins Lake Edward to Lake George and boarded our boat for a cruise along the banks. The banks were crowded with animals and birds and the boat was able to get very close. We watched herds of elephants come down to drink and there were literally hundreds of hippos in the water. I saw two baby hippos, being carefully guarded by their mothers. Another new sighting - giant forest hog, a larger version of the lowly warthog, the earth's ugliest animal.

The horror of genocide

This morning I worked up my courage and spent several hours in the National Genocide Memorial in Kigali. I knew it would be a gruelling experience. 

In this place, the remains of over a quarter of a million victims of the 1994 Rwandan genocide have been given a dignified final resting place. While their remains have come from mass graves all over the country, the row of mass graves here gives them a name and a place of burial at last. The tragic work of digging up mass graves continues. 

The British based Aegis Foundation has funded a fitting museum to tell the story of the massacre. The foundations of ethnic hatred are traced back to the German and Belgian colonial eras when there was a racist fascination with ethnic difference and power and influence were distributed to differentiate. We see traces of this in the history of colonial empires all over the globe and many of the fomented hatreds live on in our time. 

The museum record makes it clear that the massacre was organized by the Rwandan government and had been in the planning stages for some time. The presidents of Rwanda and Burundi died in an unexplained plane crash in April of 1994 and this unleashed the violence. Perhaps more than one million people - men, women and children, were slaughtered in a cataclysmic explosion of violence. The sheer brutality boggles the mind. This was an intended final solution to the presence of Tutsi people in Rwanda. The wall of names makes it easy to see that entire families were killed together.

The museum goes on to cover several other genocides of the modern era - the Jews of Europe of course, the Herrero in Namibia and the Pol Pot regime in Cambodia.  Common factors are pointed out - the myth of a chosen superior people, danger of being overrun by 'others', the defence of homeland.

A visit to this museum is a timely reminder that we need to be on the watch for divisive ideology in our own countries. The United States is currently led by a person who has called all Mexicans rapists. There are many examples of dangerous thinking emerging in Europe. The monstrous side of our humanity is never far from the surface and it is good to be watchful for it wherever we live. Nuns and priests in Rwanda were convicted for participating in the slaughter. 

The only happier moments in the museum come from reading about the heroic actions of some people in saving innocent lives. 

The long row of mass graves

The list of names goes on forever. Whole families were exterminated.

I

Realities

As we rode along a dirt road in south west Uganda, I spotted some large earthworks and asked what was happening. It was explained that there is a lot of work available breaking rocks from the cliff with fire and chisels, and then hammering those rocks into gravel. Building materials are in big demand. A wheelbarrow full sells for $2. A small truck load fetches $10. There were many people involved in this excruciatingly hard and boring work, including women and children.

I wondered how desperate one would have to be to spend from dawn until dusk hammering rocks. My friend Alan, in training as a guide, told me that when he left high school it was the only work available to him and he settled in for a spell as a rock crusher. Ambition and good luck have since led him to greener pastures. It is hard to find work when there is no work available. 

Alan happily posed for this picture of him as it used to be.

Overland

In transit

After my extraordinary experience in the Mountains of the Moon, I spent a night by Lake Bunyonyi and had a lovely quiet boat ride, during which I was able to spot some crested cranes, the national bird of Uganda. A long jail term awaits anyone who harms them.

Then, I was dropped off in Kabale, a busy provincial town 20 kilometres north of the Rwandan border. I got a shared taxi ride and was soon at the border post, crowded with trucks and cars. Very few pedestrians were going through, especially Canadians pulling suitcases! It was easy to check out of Uganda and walk a kilometre over a muddy dirt road to check in to Rwanda. I had an electronic visa, which caused a bit of consternation, but before long I was headed out on foot into a new country. There was no sign of a place I could change money so I continued until I found a van that was pointed in the right direction. Passengers were loading and I was told I could pay when I reached my destination! 

We did not travel very fast as these vans have a 'speed governor' installed in orderly Rwanda and can not exceed the speed limit of 60 kilometres per hour! The van left when it was full and continued to get a good deal fuller as we proceeded. A knock on the metal door frame signalled that a passenger wished to alight. The 80 kilometre journey took two hours, what with controlled speed, many stops, limping uphill and the tying on of various kinds of baggage!

When we reached the crowded central bus station, I went in search of an exchange bureau. I had been chatting with a young fellow beside me during the journey, and while I was looking for money, he paid my fare! I insisted on paying him as he had told me what a struggle his life is economically. Imagine though, he was prepared to part with his money to help a complete stranger. This is what Africa is really like. It is normal and expected for people to be kind, neighbourly, helpful, polite and respectful. 

It is worthy of note that the two hour journey cost $2! To get from the bus station to my quarters, I had to pay $6 for a ramshackle private taxi! That journey took five minutes! The taxi driver had no English and had no idea where the guesthouse was. Nor did I of course. Thank goodness for Google Maps which works perfectly in the centre of Africa. I was able to give him very clear left and right turn signals!

Public transit

I have a new efficient and very swift mode of transport here in Rwanda - motorcycle taxis - or moto-taxi.  I remember seeing them in Bangkok but never used them. Here in Kigali they are everywhere, always ready, and the only challenge is communicating the destination! The maximum fare is 500 Rwandan francs - 65 Canadian cents!

Yesterday I moved about quite a bit on motorcycles. This driver was very happy to have his picture taken! You can see the passenger helmet hanging on his arm.

Western Uganda

I got up after a sleepless night and enjoyed an amazing downpour of tropical rain, preceded as always in Africa by a very strong smell of the red earth. No sooner had it stopped than the sun came out and off we set on a long cross country odyssey all the way to the western border. Uganda has been booming for some time. The population has just surpassed 40 million and I think I saw all of them today. The towns are brimming with life, a press of people, lively markets filled with beautiful fruit and vegetables and all the stuff of modern life, and traffic everywhere. The land is green, even at the end of the dry season and the soil is obviously very fertile as crops abound - many fruit trees, avocado, coffee, tea. Plant it and it will grow in this climate.

We crossed the equator on the way and stopped for a moment for pictures. A heavy lunch made me very sleepy! Finally, our destination, Queen Elizabeth National Park and a spectacular view over the plains to Lake Edward, marking the border with the poorly named Democratic Republic of Congo. The Ruwenzori Mountains rise to the right. Rain threatens as the long rains begin. The air is filled with birdsong and is very warm. This is a moment in paradise.

The phoenix

The Phoenix

On Saturday, August 11, 2018 I reach Heliopolis. Do you remember the story of the Phoenix? Every five hundred years, this legendary bird flies from deep in Arabia to Heliopolis where it burns to ashes at the Temple of Atum before regenerating from the ashes into a new life, ready to start all over again.

My first 500 years is up and I am about to go through this cathartic crashing and burning, only to emerge on the other side in a new life. Early Sunday morning I land in Entebbe, in Uganda, the Pearl of Africa and the adventure begins. 

Africa is where all our stories start. To the best of our knowledge (imperfect as it is) a small group of bipeds left the Rift Valley at the beginning of human history and peopled the entire world, giving rise to cultures as varied as Inuit and Indian, South Pacific Island and Aborigine, Equatorial and Arctic.  The diversity dazzles and sparkles through time. We speak the gamut of languages and design our own individual journeys from birth to death. Our stories are endlessly fascinating. There is no end.

My own journey has been chequered of late, what with disease, divorce and dislocation but I have a growing sense of calm and serenity as I approach Heliopolis. The road has been very rough in places, untended and unloved,  but now it is time to enjoy the open vistas and  the delight of breath. I am excited about this new journey. Planet Earth is my home and I love it, the seasons,  my family and friends and the freedom to roam and explore at will,  to make decisions and plans, to abandon them if they are futile, to delve in where there are opportunities. 

And so, until soon, on the other side of the equator, in the centre of Africa, the Heart of Darkness or the Temple of Light, take your choice. A new story starts.