Friday, January 13, 2012

Talking with Housemates

I really enjoy living with Rwandan folk. Part of me feels like it gives me a better window into the world of Rwandan people. I almost get to be something like an ethnographer, because I'm deeply embedded into the culture. The housing is not something that most expats would probably want to live in because it's not perfect or well lit or anything. We don't have mirrors, for example.

It's also nice because they get good prices on our food at the market. I get Mzungu prices - they get local prices. I went with them both to the market a night ago, and one seemed to have the responsibility of distracting me and keeping me busy while the other one did the bargaining and food shopping. We got out with 2 big bags of fresh produce for about $10. So we eat cheaply, and simply.



One thing that is so cool about my housemates is that their English is fantastic, and they don't look at me like a complete alien when I do something different. And, well, at least Prosper is really open minded and able to talk about anything.

A night ago, I asked him something I knew was a sensitive topic. I asked him if he was a Tutsi or a Hutu (around this time, Scovea left the room to go to bed). He kind of paused for a moment and replied with, "I'm both." Smooth move to a loaded question. And I asked him about the genocide. He said it was alright for me to ask, so I did, but on one condition: to not ask anyone else that question.

So the biggest advice he gave me, and I give to you is: ix-nay on the enocide-gay.

Apparently it's a super taboo topic to discuss. It clearly was a low point in the country, and everyone stays very hush hush about the genocide. Kagame apparently encourages this; I guess he holds the opinion that if you talk about it, it might happen again. So no one talks about it, and many people have PTSD anyways, so they don't want to talk about it because it hurts too much. I mean, nearly 1 million people in their population were attacked and killed with machetes. I get that.

It almost reminds me of some of my German friends, or being in Germany in general. The Holocaust is still a touchy topic. So don't bring it up, because we aren't proud of it, and it happened, so let's move on.

But it's fascinating for me to be here right now. I walk down the streets and think to myself, there were probably piles of bodies on the street that I walk to work 17 years ago. Who am I walking by right now that was part of the killing, and part of the dying? I understand many people are survivors, and most people (if not all) were witnesses. But I want to know more. Don't worry, I won't ask more.

I asked Prosper his story. I guess his area in the East was safer, and he didn't have to run for his life or see any murdering directly in front of him. But he said he could see people stabbing people on the hills from afar. We are the same age, and I can't imagine being a 7-year-old and witnessing anything remotely close to that.

I can't imagine some of my students, who might have been about the same age, and locked up in a bathroom with their family, for fear of being murdered in the day or night. 

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