After Murambi, the 13 of us went to a bar. By the way, onions and fries are a delicious combination. We gave up our cultural appropriateness entirely and loudly sang all the American pop songs that are CONSTANTLY streaming from the tv’s constant music videos. Sometimes I like being an obnoxious American :)

We decided we didn’t want to sleep alone, so we took ALL the furniture out of two of the rooms and replaced it with lots and lots of mattresses. Ahh, yes, middle school sleepovers! Except in a hostel with very large bugs.

The next day we went to a Women’s Association in rural Butare, and it. was. amazing. I was freezing because I had gotten stuck in the rain, and didn’t know where I was going… and didn’t have a raincoat. But that’s irrelevant.

These women are either widows of genocide victims or wives of genocide perpetrators – and they live and work and pray together as friends. They told us that “the Word of God” brought them together, and that their faith had brought them through their hardships, which I thought was pretty interesting. Especially since the church had been so complicit in committing the genocide.

It was such a great example of Christianity being used for GOOD, not just for converting “heathens.” Also a great example of foreigners doing good by empowering the people, not imposing their culture or ideas – a foreign priest had been these women’s first therapist, and he helped facilitate the organization of the association.

Those women were some of the strongest and most incredible people I’ve ever had the honor of meeting. They were beginning to include some of the former genocidaires, too, but in baby steps. They said they would not accept them until they were sure they truly ascribed to the reconciliation of the two groups. When I asked about any male survivors being included, the answer was this: there are none. Or if there are, they are so mentally or physically handicapped from the genocide that they can’t be part of normal life.

As we left that dark little concrete room, the women got up to dance and sing… and they pulled me in after Charity had joined. I had absolutely no idea what I was doing, but it was great! They were so joyful, celebrating these little white people coming to visit their village!

That night we went back to the bar for the fries and onions… and slowly realized that we were the ONLY girls in the entire place. And the men were numbering around 80, sitting in rows watching a soccer game projected on the wall.

We eventually found a bedroom next to the bathroom… apparently, we were in a brothel. Or maybe the owners slept in there? I hope? Anyway, we got the check and ran outta there. And realized that the day before, the whole restaurant had probably thought our only guy, Lewie, was our pimp. Lovely!

Another sleepover… Never Have I Ever… and the next day, we visited students at the National University. THEY SLEEP TWELVE TO A DORM ROOM!! IN WHICH THERE ARE SIX BEDS! God, I thought living in a dorm instead of an apartment was bad enough. They also had 140,000 books in their library… can anyone tell me how many are available to UNC students?

We talked to the Unity and Reconciliation club, and it was unbelievably nice to have people speak English comfortably. I spoke to a man Eddy for a while and learned that he survived 1994 by running into the jungle and eventually escaping to the DRC. When I asked about the rest of his family, he said, “The story of my parents? All dead. But life goes on.” One of his sisters is the only other family member who survived, but he doesn’t even know how she escaped. And he wants reconciliation, not revenge. Pretty amazing.

Then the bus ride, then Kigali, then homestay, who welcomed me home with the two Rwandan food groups: carbs (i.e. rice) and beans!

P.S. I have fellow dancers (except I don’t really count as a current dancer…) on this program! YES!