So, to pick up where we left off in Rwanda: Elizabeth, Leigh and I had just spent the morning playing with gorillas in the forest with our pants tucked into our socks, while Megan was off on top of a mountain somewhere. When the three of us returned, we took a short trip into downtown Ruhengeri, where we did some shopping at the fabric market (an insane maze of stalls, navigation of which required the help of an 11 year old local named Christian who spoke perfect English and was learning Spanish "from the internet").
I took the lazy, awesome way back to the hotel. Note the helmets, and the official vest this guy is wearing - boda-bodas are actually regulated here, unlike in Uganda.
The next morning, we were up early for the drive to Kigali. It was one amazing view after the other on the way through the mountains.
In Kigali, we went to the genocide memorial. Rwanda is such a beautiful country, and the roads and cities look new and modern compared to a lot of Uganda. Sadly, that's the case because so much was destroyed in the civil war and the genocide - the country was essentially rebuilt in the 90s. That history was always in the back of my mind as we traveled around, and it was strange to think that although life here seems so normal, most of the Rwandans who we saw and spoke to had lived through it all.
I learned a lot about the history of Rwanda and the genocide here. It seemed like a necessary thing to do when visiting the country, and I probably hadn't known as much about it as I should have before. What I really hadn't been aware of is that the international community really did nothing at the time - just stood by and let the genocide go on.
These are a few of many mass graves at the memorial site. The one in front is still open, as remains of more victims are continuously being found around the country and brought to the site.
Photos of some of the victims, part of an exhibit made up of three rooms: The first with photos, the second with actual remains, and the third with belongings, mostly clothing, found buried with the victims. One of the items in that third room was a Cornell University t-shirt.
After experiencing the emotional equivalent of a thorough beating, we checked into the Step Motel to relax for a bit.
The super-zoom on my new camera turned out to be excellent for stalking people from all the way across the city.
We went out that night to explore, to get dinner, drinks, and to stop by the Hotel des Mille Collines, the actual Hotel Rwanda. This is a photo of the UTC roundabout at night.
The next day, it was back home to Uganda. Once again, the journey was an adventure.
John, the hotel manager, gave us a ride to the taxi park. You may recall a picture of the taxi park in Kampala that I posted at the beginning of the trip... this was a bit smaller, but just as densely crowded. The car was instantly swarmed by people offering to sell us just about anything or drive us to a number of places we didn't want to go. Our initial plan was to take a local bus to the border, but upon seeing the crowd John took us across the street, where he negotiated a private driver for the same cost as the bus. Our driver then had to fight off a crowd of other would-be drivers, including a guy who actually climbed into the driver's seat of our car and had to be physically removed. And eventually we were off to the border...
At least, until we went speeding through a small town where a market was going on, only to be surprised by traffic police, who made our driver pull over.
We pulled over in the middle of the market.
A crowd, made up of mostly kids and teenagers, would gather around whenever the police stepped away from the driver's window, only to scatter when a police officer aimed a kick into the middle of the group... and then come creeping back a few minutes later to repeat the whole scenario.
Rwandan police don't seem very friendly.
But eventually they let us go on.
A few minutes later, we came across this situation:
This group waved us down, and our driver pulled off the road. At first it looked like an accident had happened, but upon taking a closer look it became clear that this car had looked like this for years, based on the amount of rust. But for some reason, this group was pushing it out of the road, and proceeded to sell our driver a spare tire - or at least, we think that's what happened. Since our driver spoke no English and we spoke no Kirwanda, we're not sure, but there was an exchange of cash and some guy threw an old tire in our trunk, and then we drove on.
Winding mountain roads + high speeds = bad things.
In fact, it was the second time we'd seen a truck tipped over in two days.
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| Photo by Megan |
You're welcome, Primus beer. We'll miss you.
At the border, our driver sold the spare tire out of the trunk. Hope it covered the cost of his speeding ticket...
And once again, we crossed the border - this time at Katuna - on foot.
Of course, back in Uganda, a lot of this was happening.
But at least we had a more comfortable ride than all these people...
and we were home safely by Sunday night.
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