Gisenyi and Lake Kivu, Rwanda

With less than one week left in Rwanda, I decided to take the chance to travel again. This time to Rwanda’s western province – a town called Gisenyi and a lake called Kivu, and also Goma, Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) (a separate blog entry to come).

There were seven of us this time – James, Jackie & Liam, Sylvan, Delfina, myself and James’ friend Patient. James and Patient grew up together for a few years in Gisenyi and Patient knows the area very well. He has also been to DRC many times so we were blessed to have him along. Sylvan had stayed home to watch the house when we all went to Mutara so I was SO excited to bring him along this time. He had talked to me about Lake Kivu months ago, how he dreamed of being able to go there. The look on his face when I told him was incredible!! And Delfina came to care for Liam, but also because she hasn’t had opportunities like this in her life. It was my absolute pleasure to bring her along as well!

We departed early in the morning and this drive was more stunning than the last, if that’s even possible. Again, gorgeous Rwandan hills cultivated and brilliantly green, kids waving and people working, fresh air and complete joy in my heart. After a couple hours, James pointed out the volcanoes where the gorillas live – the Volcano National Park. Maybe next time! We continued driving after a pit stop there and made it to Gisenyi in good time.

After dropping our things off at the guesthouse, we headed straight for the water. Lake Kivu is massive, and quite an interesting lake to learn about. Located almost half and half in Rwanda and DRC, it’s classified as one of three known ‘exploding lakes’ in the world - potentially very dangerous if the large amounts of dissolved gases contained within should ‘erupt'. It has also seen heavy conflict on its shores in the past two decades (both the Rwandan genocide and the recent wars in Congo, of which some conflict is still ongoing).

We caught a glimpse of Kivu on the road coming into Gisenyi, but stepping onto the beach gave a magnificent view! The sun was shining, not a cloud in the sky, and I squished my toes in the warm golden sand. I noticed that both Sylvan and Delfina had their sandals still on, so I encouraged them to try going barefoot. They had never been to a lake or a beach before so I was sort of teaching them what to do. Amazing what we take for granted isn’t it? I coaxed them into the lake as well, if only up to their calves, and had all of us building castles and things in the sand too. What fun!

Liam had also never been to a beach before and he really wasn’t sure what to think of it. He cried if we put him near or into the water and didn’t like the sand at first either. We kept putting him in the sand and once he got used to that he really enjoyed it. He was picking it up in his hands and feeling it on his toes. Giggles and smiles galore, he ended up covered in it! We had a blast playing with him, what a cutie pie!

By mid afternoon our stomachs could no longer be ignored and we left the lake to grab some buffet lunch. We spent the late afternoon at the posh Lake Kivu Serena hotel back on the the lake shores. We were able to just walk in (very abnormal for them), find a table near the beach and have some drinks. The perfect way to watch the sun fall into the vast lake; a fitting end to a memory filled day for all.

Mutara, Rwanda: Part 2

After returning from Jackie's childhood home and 'the tree', we went to the market so I could buy some extra food for everyone, knowing they were unable to feed us all. We made a typical dinner and what I remember most is that it was quite challenging and labour intensive cooking for so many people over only two charcoal fires (all the drinking water also has to be boiled over these charcoals too).

While I was outside cutting vegetables for dinner, James came to ask if a few of them could watch a movie on my laptop. I set it up for them inside and went back to continue with dinner. To my amusement, I came in later and found young and old crowded onto a little couch and the floor watching Pirates of the Caribbean on my 13 inch screen. I realized that this is such a novelty for them - they don’t have a tv, there are no movie theaters. Maybe they are able to watch with friends who have televisions once in a while. I’m glad they can enjoy it!

So the plan for Saturday was to go to Akagera National Park - about an hour and a half drive from Mutara. The best time to view the animals is in the early morning before the scorching midday sun signals retreat to the shade, so considering all of this, our morning was going to start very early. I encouraged everyone to get to bed early but the kids were too excited to sleep. And, as luck would have it, I was sharing one of the smaller bedrooms with them. Nine or ten of us sharing three foam mattresses did not make for a restful night...

Morning came all too quickly, but the excitement got me up and moving. We were on the road a bit behind schedule and had to stop for fuel and some breakfast food & lunch food. As we drove the narrow road towards the park gates, the sun made its beautiful entrance in a swath of orange across the savannah sky.

We pulled into the park gate and drove right up to the entrance building. After the entrance fees were paid, our guide hopped into the vehicle with us and we began our safari! Two minutes down the bumpy dirt road we spotted our first zebras… gah, they are so cool! We spotted another group and then another. They are pretty squeamish, but observing them for even a short time is amazing. The kids were scaring off some of the animals in their noise and excitement but it's understandable. Many Rwandans have never been to their own national park or seen these animals before How cool that I can see this with them for the first time! We spotted some impala next, and then some warthogs. Pumba!

After an hour or two of driving and viewing, we came to a different part of the park. The acacia trees and green shrubs gave way to a wide open space scattered with grazing animals and watering holes. This open plain was ringed with hills and just stunning!

We were able to drive right through the middle of the plain towards the far hills where the buffalo hang out. We found an entire heard grazing and stopped a fair distance from these crazy (and dangerous!) animals, staying in the vehicle as we observed them. They are massive and intimidating, yet peaceful. They move slowly, letting little white birds rest on their horns while they eat the grasses. Suddenly, the birds shot into the air and the entire heard scattered into the nearby brush, gone in an instant. I'm not sure if we scared them off, but they stayed hidden for the rest of the day.

Our final quest was to find some giraffe and hope for any other sightings. It takes a lot of luck to see a leopard, lion, rhino or other 'big five' animals in Akagera. The park was devastated in 1994 during the genocide with the rebel movement coming though, general lawlessness, and poaching. Some of the original park land was also taken from the park and settled by people re-patriated afterward. There are plans to return it to its former glory in the next decade or two.

We headed back toward the park gate on the suspicion that some giraffes would be in that area. The dirt roads were incredibly bumpy and hard on the brakes... and then, yep, our brakes were gone! James managed to navigate us back to the gate, about an hour away, and arranged for a dude on a motorbike to bring us the part we needed from town. We had some lunch (PB & banana on bread) while we waited and hung around for a couple hours while James fixed the vehicle. We left for Mutara mid afternoon, SUV fixed, giraffes on the list for my next safari, and very thankful for what we experienced.

That afternoon and evening, after arriving back in Mutara, we were invited to visit Monica's family on their ranch near the Ugandan border. They welcomed us wholeheartedly and invited us in. There were a lot of people living there, extended family included, and I didn't meet all of them. Most don't speak any English, but were quite intrigued by the 'white girl'.

After sitting around (admittedly bored) listening to their Kinyarwanda for a bit, Jackie grabbed my arm and took me from the house to a traditional hut out back. It's a place they use for hanging out and is clean and well kept. We sat in the hut with some of Monica's family and were fed a meal of beef and rice. It was delicious and I definitely ate until I was over-full (I haven't had beef like that since leaving South Africa). The ladies sitting with us in the hut were so curious about me, it seemed as if they have only seen muzungus (caucasians) from afar. Jackie could hardly eat she was laughing so hard at what they were saying about me in their language. She tells me they are amazed at my colour, my hair, my skin, everything! They even had to touch my skin and wanted to see my hair witout a hat - to which Jackie was thoroughly amused! It's quite funny thinking about how I appear to someone who has grown up in a pretty homogenous culture. These are grown women who were giggling with utter disbelief!

picture with the intrigued women

Later on we are offered milk from their cows from carved wooden containers. This is a very traditional thing, Jackie says. They milk their cows, boil the milk, and then store it for days and weeks inside these wooden containers (no fridge!). The smell of the milk inside the wooden jug just did not sit well with me, so I politely declined to drink some (maybe not clean enough for me anyway). Jackie felt obligated to drink some and ended up sick all night long. Very glad I averted that.

We visited one of Jackie's aunts later that same evening, sitiing with her and her children in their basic mud home. She was very gracious and kind but had nothing to serve us when we came (not that I minded, it just showed how impoverished she was). A tragic situation. There was a single LED bulb hanging from the ceiling of the place, casting a dim blue in the dark hut. She sat on the dirt floor with her kids as we sat on the few chairs they had while visiting. It didn't feel right to take pictures, although I wish I could share some with you now. We didn't stay for long and thanked them so much as we left.

The next morning we packed up and drove home, actually leaving later than planned so that the sunset danced by as we neared Kigali. Sylvan was waiting for us as we pulled into the driveway - he has missed us terribly! It was really amazing to go and was nice to be back again.

Mutara, Rwanda: Part 1

I hadn’t been far from Kigali in almost two months of living in Rwanda, so yes, I jumped at the chance to go to the Eastern province. A place called Mutara, where Jackie’s parents and some other family members live. Mutara is right up near the Ugandan border and a three hour drive from Kigali (which is smack dab in the centre of Rwanda). I had decided not to go see the gorillas (an expensive and lonely endeavor for me this time) and take the family to Mutara and Akagera National Park instead. So this is how it came to be that we all piled into their SUV (a gift from a church in USA) and drove together across the country.

Gas tank the fullest it's ever been!

Excitement was obvious, the car filled with smiles (mine in particular), laughter and high spirits. The road out of Kigali steadily ascended until we were on top of the most beautiful patchwork of green hills. It’s actually hard to imagine the beauty of this place without seeing it in the flesh. Obviously my camera was out snapping non-stop! At one point my lens cap actually flew out the window and we had to turn around, look in the ditch for it and finally discover some kid had picked it up and somewhat reluctantly returned it to me.

As we drove, people laboured along the roadside with loads on their heads or backs while kids in school uniforms walked to and from their schools, waving to me as we passed. In a beautiful maze of fields farmers toil, turning soil or harvesting produce by hand. It was all quite magical to me at that moment, just the simplicity of life and the beauty found in that. One pit stop for a bathroom break and a snack (barbequed goat on skewers and fried potatoes) keeps us going.

We near our destination and the landscape changes almost instantly; huge green hills are replaced with smaller brown ones, unfamiliar trees are randomly placed more sparse than before. Herds of cattle with massive horns and muscled hides roam about. It's mesmerizing.

In Mutara now, we greet Jackie’s beautiful parents - her Mom so tall and graceful and her Dad with kind green eyes. Jackie’s younger siblings greet us as well (two brothers and a sister) while Jackie’s older sister and her young daughter also hang around. Jackie’s parent’s home is a little concrete place with a covered front porch, small living room, two small bedrooms and a 'food storage' room (no kitchen). Latrines are out back and cooking is done outside as well. The house is buzzing with activity as the nine of us arrive. Despite their desperate situation, we are served a nice meal (plantain & veggies in peanut sauce) shortly - they are gracious hosts and endlessly generous.

In the afternoon, they take me to see the land they own where Jackie and her family grew up. Mom directs us there along dirt roads scattered with tiny homes and grazing cows. We pull into a dead end, walk a path lined with bright green bushes and arrive on their land. I know what I am about to see here - this is the place where Jackie and her family rebuilt their lives after the genocide. A barren field gives way to a large patch of banana trees and the small mud home Jackie and her mom built with their hands. I’m not sure how long they lived here afterwards, but let me say that any amount of time would have been too much. A newly married couple are living in the hut now, as Jackie’s parents have let them stay while they get on their feet. We keep the talk fairly light and wander into the small banana plantation. We stand around in the shade of the trees and Eric takes a machete and cuts down a few ripe banana bunches for us the enjoy later.

About few kms down the road is the well Jackie used to fetch water from in those days. It's quite a walk from their land and I would guess the water isn't of much quality. This is, sadly, an all too common theme on this troubled continent. How much our world would change if every person had access to clean water!





Our final stop this afternoon is a very special place. We find the spot, ask permission to tread upon the land and walk towards a tree. The tree. The place where 11-year-old Jackie stood, Sunday after Sunday, banging a drum because God told her to do so. She had just survived the genocide and her country and community were in ruins. People began to gather Sunday after Sunday and she preached Matthew, chapter 5, over and over (the only verses she knew at that time). It was a message of hope! A church was started and continues to this day (although they meet in a building now). Whoa. WHOA! Isn’t that insane? God has used Jackie in many amazing ways from such a young age and she is an absolute inspiration.

And now standing in front of the tree, it's all quite overwhelming. The tree is now older and less grand than is used to be. The dry season has stolen its green leaves for now, but I can imagine what it once was; how many lives were changed here because Jackie allowed Father to use her in her own weakness. What can compare?! Jesus died and rose again to redeem the world, to save us, to give us life to the fullest and fill us with hope, joy and love beyond measure.