South, North, then South Again (aka #ArriveAlive)

Alas, I once again found myself without a signal strong enough to connect to the blog site when I sat down to draft this. So, unfortunately, this one is arriving way after I wrote – and a few days after I promised it, too (Sorry, Grandma, I guess I was being too aspirational!!). It has been an action-packed two weeks since I last corresponded. Lots of busses (7), a couple border crossings (2), multiple invitations to deliver lectures (3), many many meetings (I lost count), and one too many times drinking (*gagging on*) Skol* out of social courtesy. I’ll break down the highlights:

(*Skol is a local beer that I swear is indistinguishable from the water in Lake Kivu. I don’t love beer to begin with, but it’s Rwanda’s national beverage. In a country where most water is not safe to drink, its a safe bet and is ubiquitous in social settings. Not to mention that it can be rude to refuse offerings of hospitality.)

When we last left off, I was heading south to the city of Huye to meet some colleagues at another outpost of the University of Rwanda. This meant heading to the Nyabugogo bus station in Kigali at around 7:30 AM to catch the 3 hour bus down. I’ve spoken about the bus system in Rwanda before. It is relatively navigable, pretty reliable, very affordable, and most of the time safe. But some bus companies do have reputations for either catching on fire or careening off the sides of hills. I’ve never faced any issues. accept the risks, and stick to a few key companies. But, after some concerned individuals asking about my travel, I decided to try another company that markets itself as the safest option: Ritco. With the company slogan “I want to live another day #ArriveAlive,” how could you not be confident in your security?

Anyway, after working, I spent the evening with two Fulbrighter English teachers who are posted down there. I got to see their favorite spots – Huye has GREAT ice cream, some incredible coffee, and a famed Chinese food restaurant that is tasty albeit not Chinese food – and they introduced me to their friends, one of whom is a professional Rwandan singer. That night, he had been asked to perform at a relative’s birthday party. Given that parties in Rwanda mean invited guests + invited guests’ families + invited guests’ friends + invited guests’ families’ friends + the person the invited guest’s family member’s friend just met on the street, the other two Fulbrighters and I ended up tagging along. It ended up being a blast. In typical Rwandan fashion, there was lots of dancing (traditional & not), numerous speeches that reached natural stopping points only to continue for 15 more minutes, piles of steaming carbs that typify Rwandan traditional diet, and (unfortunately) plentiful Skol. I got laughed at for my shaky Ikinyarwanda, and a few Rwandan guys tried their hardest to teach me to dance (we saw limited success). But overall, it was incredibly fun and I am welcome in Huye whenever I next return; although I counted myself lucky to have been able to politely duck out at midnight – these things can run well into the morning. 

While in Huye, I also managed a private tour of the national ethnographic museum of Rwanda. Fascinating exhibits. But perhaps those reflections are best left for another point. After catching a bus, I made it back home in time for the weekend to head off with a few Kigali friends to Lake Bunyoni in Uganda, on of my favorite places on Earth. I will let the pictures tell most of the story here, but Bunyoni means “the place of the little birds.” It is about a 15 minute drive from Kabale, Uganda, a city just 30 minutes across the northern Rwanda–Uganda border. It is the second-deepest lake in Africa and, as the beautiful ever-present chirping assured us, it lives up to its name. After passing through Kabale Town and stopping for street-side rolex (street food is legal in Uganda!), we stayed a delightful evening in a tree house on a an island in the middle of the lake. The next afternoon, we made our way home via a beautiful lodge with a stunning lookout over the whole lake – a contrast from the views the evening prior which were par with the water level. Highlights from the journey included a scary but exhilarating rope, a hypnotic camp fire, a random 1-hour time change that you encounter by traveling directly north (?), a presumably decently intoxicated guard at border security, and fresh crayfish masala. Enjoy the pictures!

Finally, this past weekend, I headed back South. Monday was a national holiday, and I had been planning for a while to hike four days of the Congo-Nile trail that circumnavigates Lake Kivu in Western Rwanda. But, unfortunately, the Rwandan government put out an official weather warning for this weekend – something that almost never occurs. Note, it is supposed to be dry season right now. Also note, it is very much not dry – things have been very unusual while I have been here. So when I received the memo of severe flooding and storms, I decided it was best not to spend my whole weekend outside on cliffs besides a lake. And while my good sense extended far enough to ensure I wouldn’t be outside, it didnt extend far enough to keep me from traveling. So I re-routed my plans and decided to make a pilgrimage to a remote town in Southern Rwanda called Kibeho. I had heard of Kibeho before, but had not taken much note until my Grandma wrote me about it a few weeks ago. It is a very holy place – the only site in Africa where the Vatican has verified historical apparitions of Mary. According to tradition, Mary appeared numerous times to three girls attending college at Kibeho beginning in 1981 until 1989. The apparitions and city also have deep-rooted linkage to the 1994 genocide. You can read more about it on the website linked here (http://kibeho-sanctuary.com/en/apparitions/brief-overview.html).

But back to the story – I grabbed a Ritco on Saturday morning and #ArrivedAlive in Huye 3 hours later. By then it had started raining. So I dashed into the Horizon bus office in Huye (Ritco unfortunately wouldn’t go any further than there), to grab a ticket to Kibeho. Now, Kibeho is supposed to be 1.5 hours from Huye. There is a rough road that connects the two. I told the guy at the counter that I wanted to go to Kibeho, (“Ndshaka kujya Kibeho”), paid and got my ticket. But when I looked down, I realized the ticket didn’t say Kibeho. It said “Ndago.” Turning around, I asked the man at the desk what was up –  he said that the road to Kibeho was broken, but that going via Ndago would get me there just fine. I decided to trust him. But made him walk over with me to the bus to tell the drive that I was going to Kibeho and needed to be told where the stop was. Hopping on the bus, I sat next to a middle-aged woman with a baby. I told her that I was going to Kibeho. And after a series of hand waving with some kinyarwanda, she gave me a thumbs up – at every stop going forward from there, she made sure I knew it was not time to get off the bus.

It turns out that the bus route to Ndago does get pretty close to Kibeho. However, it does that by a circuitous route in which you pass as far south as the border of Rwanda with Burundi! It was raining pretty hard so our little bus slipped and slid up and down the hills. At one hill, after sliding backwards down it about three times, I was really not sure if we were going to make it. Safe to say, by the time we got to Ndago 3 hours later, I had made some friends. This was good news, given I soon learned I was expected to get off the bus at Ndago and make a transfer to Kibeho. So I hop out of the bus in, what to me is the middle of nowhere, with my new friend, Peter (a mechanical engineering student at a school in the Western province) promising that he is also headed to Kibeho and will make sure we get there. In Ndago, we met another man also heading to Kibeho, a Burundian Priest called Father Alyoys. So at this point, I am standing at a bus stop outside the local bar and all I can think is that I’m in the lead-up to some punchy joke – something that goes like “a Rwandan Engineer, a Burundian Father, and a White Boy all converge on their pilgrimage.” 

All that to say, after another bus and some off road walking, we finally made it to the shrine. I was incredibly fortunate to have run into those two who made great company and ensured I actually made it to where I needed to go! 

I definitely do not want to bore you with the details of what ended up being a lovely weekend of prayer and reflection, but the highlights included my stay with the Sisters of the Queen of Peace, observing a Rwandan baptism ceremony, and praying on the hill called Nyarushishi, which is both a genocide remembrance site and a marker of the apparitions. 

The journey back to Kigali was much much easier. It turns out that, even though it was raining again when I left, the road was no longer broken. Honestly, I might disagree with that determination. But the Volcano company bus raced my back to Huye in a record hour and ten minutes! From there, catching a ride to Kigali was not at all an issue. The trip left me both tired and refreshed. Although I think I need to take a break from busses, even for a little bit! 

It has been an action-packed two weeks. But that is all from me for now. Ill be sure to write soon. And in the meantime, stay well – know my thoughts and prayers were with many of you from the Shrine at Kibeho.