Rwandan Vignettes

I feel I should write about the course today but it wasn't quite as interesting as my adventures in Kigali. I went to get a SIM card before class. The woman who had to fill in my passport details on her computer got distracted. Why? Because she said, "I can't believe how old you are! You look so strong...." I smiled. (I found out later that the average lifespan in Rwanda is 65 - so no wonder she was surprised.) She asked if I had lots of children. "No," I said trotting out my usual facetious response, "I forgot to have them." "You forgot?" She was wide-eyed and open-mouthed, "But didn't your neighbors remind you?" That was not a response I've ever had before!

It says a lot about Rwandan society and I told this story in class when we were discussing the intimacy of the violence that characterized the Rwandan genocide - neighbour killing neighbour, teammates killing former team members, Hutu husbands killing Tutsi wives on pain of death themselves - the local genocidaires knew their victims, had drunk banana beer with them and had traded cows with them. (Jean Hatzfeld: "Machete Season: The Killers in Rwanda Speak." (2006))

Fred, my Rwandan "son" - we adopted each other about 9 years ago - came to meet me after the course finished for the day. He is getting married in 3 weeks time. That's not wholly correct - he has been through month's of family negotiations and rituals and last week had a civil ceremony. He had yet to tell me the plans. He is a rather secretive person - as a genocide orphan, he is not used to confiding in anyone. He has a habit of surprising me. In Cape Town he was always opening new businesses in Belville and only telling me when they were up and running. So I ask him what are the plans for the wedding?
"Well we still have to have the introductions where the families meet."
"I thought you'd done that already?" I'm a bit taken aback.
"No, it's the traditional wedding. Do you want to come to that?" he asks.
"Sure, of-course. Don't I need a special garment? I've been asking around..."
"Yes," he says, "but that can be arranged - you are on my list."
"When is it?"  I' m wondering how much time I have to do this.
"This weekend."
 Good God! "Why didn't you tell me?!"
A little giggle, "it's in Tanzania."
 "WHAT?" I'm astounded, exasperated and clutching my head at the craziness of all this. He never told me his bride was from Tanzania!

Apparently, for Rwandans its no big deal to cross this border. The 35 members of his entourage are all sorted - he has hired a bus for them and they don't have to pay and, most importantly, they have been preparing themselves for this for months! I will have to pay twice, travel for about 14 hours all told in 30 degree heat, and stay overnight in Tanzania - uhrrr!!! I can't do it!!!