Gisimba Memorial Center & Genocide Memorial

Bité and good evening everybody.

Welcome to day 6 and our final full day on our week long trip through Rwanda, Africa.

Though we were becoming more and more sad as the morning went one since Helen had to leave at 1:05am Saturday and the other 3 of us have the whole day tomorrow to do stuff before having to be back and to the airport around 5pm.

Although the sadness was there a little our day was quickly brightened.

We knew we had one more stop off on our "Right to Play programs list", Gisimba Memorial Center which was an orphanage for children 1 yr and younger to as old as 25. Many of the children in the orphanage were victims of war, or disease. Parents bringing children to hospitals while they were sick and when the parent died the children were left helpless, street kids, older kids effected by 1994. Kids of all backgrounds, shapes and sizes were welcome at Gisimba.

we started our visit by meeting the director quickly where he explained the age groups which he then stated were in school that morning, "so we only have out kindergarden kids to play with today" we looked at eachother and replied "oh damn, only kindergarden!" like really? Whats cuter then kinder gardeners that just want to hold your hand and copy you to whole time?

The first class came out of the far building and followed a stone path perfectly down the middle of the playground, most of the kids had they're fingers to their mouths, implying they were taught not to yell out or say anything when they came out for play time.

Within 20 minutes we had 4 different classes out playing, and so we all took a group. Its amazing how interesting you are to these kids and how much they just want to be the ones that get to hold your hand and play with your watch and in my case, stick they're hands in my cargo-pant pockets.

we played a few warm up games and dances then went into a sharing game, the kids that were around me were much more interested in what I was doing then participating with the games.

At one point to get to they're level I crouched down, what I wasn't expecting was for 22 out of 30 of the kids in my group to crouch down like myself. haha.

We played with the kids for about 45-60 minutes and then they were called back to class, we went into visit with the classes after a quick photograph with the staff at the orphanage who were amazing RTP coaches and leaders. We taught a few really quick games, listened to some of they're little songs, watched the teachers/coaches play verbal games with the kids and then we had to say our final goodbye, though it was inevitable that NO ONE wanted to leave!

We gathered into the truck, trying to stay on schedule and headed off to headquarters to have a de-brief with the Kigali, Right to Play people, all were very interested in our stories and notes on the programs and the coaches and the amazing kids! We talked for a while and after a quick video clip of Helen's silver medal bobsleigh race in Vancouver and Roz's gold $10K win at the championships a few years back, to give the team at RTP Kigali a jist of what the girls do when we say "its like skatboarding on ice" or "its like race car driving down ice", those explainations never really did work out too well. We realized we were late for lunch with the Canadian ambassitor of Kigali, so we rushed off to meet him.

His name was James and he had brought his family to live in Kigali a year ago, his colleague was Willow and she had just moved to Kigali 2 weeks ago, all were very interested in our experiences and our ideas and especially hearing about the sports and how the athletes enjoyed the kids and the programs and what they're doing to be more supportive of RTP and get into the programs more.

Lunch went late, till around 2:30pm when we finalized our afternoon schedule.

20 minutes later we were walking through the entrance of the Kigali Genoride memorial museum and park.

We had started to brace ourselves once we walked through the door, the first rooms explained what it was and how it happened and why and then the aftermath. Luckily, I picked up a trait from my father, to read every little caption on every picture and every piece of information I could get into my head, so the emotional side of everything I think was muted to a sence by the information I was taking in, which was so interesting and devostating and amazingly explained all at the same time. The museum went on for just under an hour, I did skip through a few rooms, the room dedicated to children lost with they're names and photos up on the walls I didn't go through. But I did take my time to walk through the picture room where people had brought pictures of family members in and hung them up on the hooks, some with quotes underneath others with names, others with final words I guessed. Beside that there was a room of human remains they had found, glass cases of skulls, where you could see machette marks and where their skulls had been smashed in with whatever it was they got hit with. And the 3rd room was some belongings of the people they found in mass graves around Rwanda, t-shirts and kids clothes and blankets and dresses and etc.

As you walked through it explained about other "genocides" around the world including the holycaust and a few other massacres that are historical events. Each with a very detailed description and meaning behind it.

After about 30 minutes I noticed that the girls had burst ahead, walking through most of the museum without looking at much, I knew Roz and Steph especially were not handling it well it was the bones room that got them I think, it was alot to take in so I didn't blame them. As yu walked outside there were beautiful gardens and fountains all with different meanings, you followed paths until you came to a gate, when you walked through there were very large concrete slabs, about 35 feet by 13 feet, each of these slabs, were the final burial place to 150,000-250,000 bodies each.

I felt slightly guilty, walking around, though I was moved by everything I saw, I did not cry. I felt sadness, I felt upset but i never got to crying and I never really felt like I was going to start to cry... I thought that was a little strange, as I walked down to the names listed on the walls around the mass graves, many bodies they had told us were unrecoverable, and could not be identified, the others were those who were on a "murder list" so to speak where they were individually hunted down in their own homes.

You really don't understand until you come here, until you stand on the streets of Kigali and realize that blood flowed through them not long ago, till you see the Congo-Rwandan border where neearly 300,000 lives were taken.

As I walked alone through the 6 + mass graves I thought to myself how can this feel so fake when it is so very real, like I wanted to believe it was all a bad dream but one I couldn't wake up too.

As I stood looking over a single mass grave I found my hand raise to my forehead then to my chest then to each shoulder and I heard myself start to speak. No one was around so I guess thats why I was quietly talking out loud like someone was very close beside me. By the time I realized what I was doing my hands were folded and my speech slow and clear. I stood and prayed for the families, I prayed they continue to have strength, that the ones who are still very scarred be healed to the best they can. I prayed for the children who lost mothers and fathers, to the brothers and sisters who lost brothers and sisters, to the mothers and fathers and uncles and aunts and grandparents.

I am not a super religious person, but without knowing I had drawn myself to pray for the souls that left before they're time. I thanked those who saved lives, those who protected and sacrificed themselves to buy time for family or friends or complete strangers.

I prayed for peace and love and healing. But most of all I prayed for the fallen.

Just before I crossed my body and said Amen a quote popped into my head, one that I had seen inside on a plaque "This is about our past and our future. Our nightmares and our dreams. Our hopes and fears". So I made a last plee, I prayed for the future to shine like the lights of Kigali, I prayed for they're dreams to never become nightmares and I prayed for love instead of fear, beside the hope that we've seen on our trip already I then crossed my body and paused, "amen" came from my lips and I felt free... free from somthing that grabs onto you, something you can't see and sometimes can't feel till its so big that its erriversible.

The rain started to fall as I made my way to the path and through the beautiful canopy of flowers to the main building.

And I thought to myself...

"Rain to end this, maybe is proof that someone is showing these people and the world we are allowed to feel sad, because the rain will wash away the past and leave only the future of new life".

Amen.

~a.grange~