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Published: July 21st 2006
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The walk to work
And then of course the whole work day is walking. Along hillsides and down narrow paths that wind between the tea plants. So enchanting to see, yet must be harder than it looks. The sea of people surrounding us parted and a single man walked through. “Hello. I am Providence.” Providence indeed. The day was ending, light quickly escaping from the sky as it does here - day turns to night barely bothering to pass through dusk. The bumpy, dusty, windy, hilly and absolutely stunning road that skirts the eastern shore of Lake Kivu had spit us out on a stretch of tarmac seven hours after we started. We stood there, still vibrating just a bit from the ride on the back of UNHCR truck, with no real idea how to get where we were going.
Providence, it turned out, was a community outreach warden at Nyungwe National Park (the very park we’d come searching for), and he had a motorcycle. He said he’d happily find another and take us both to the nearby guesthouse. No problem, just a few kilometers. Well, a few kilometers on the back of a bike is a thrill unless you happen to have your 40 lb pack on your back, and the road is all up. Misery on the abs and hipflexers as you try to resist the havoc that gravity is wreaking on your back. But
The long and winding wait
On this road we stood, waiting for a ride, for two hours. What a blessing it was, as we witness the unfolding of the early morning. Beautiful. Providence delivered us safely to the luxurious guesthouse, and assured us that it would be no problem to find a ride the rest of the way to the Nyungwe Park headquarters in the morning. His parting words of wisdom were, “Just be on the road by six before all the minibuses fill.”
So there we were, six a.m., ready to go. One rarely feels lucky to be up and out by six, but in Rwanda you feel it as a blessing. Rwanda holds the most profound natural beauty we have found on this trip. The rolling green hills are endless, and stunning views across mountains and out to picturesque lakes are the norm. The shining wide leaves of banana trees wave alongside the burgundy tops of the swaying sorghum stalks. The misty morning clouds roll in and out of valleys, and the sun gently makes its way into the day.
In the mountains near Nyungwe, tea plantations cover the hillsides, and at six a.m. tea pickers cover the road. Some come packed cheek-by-jowl in the back of a flatbed truck. Many more make the long walk from town up up up the hill. Each with his or her
The commute
The lucky ones get a ride. own woven bamboo basket tied on like a backpack. Each with his or her own version of protection from the morning dew of the tea leaves. The lucky ones have regulation green aprons that hang stiffly in front and back like floppy sandwich boards. The others seem to cobble something together out of old grain sacks or even plastic bags. We were told that each tea picker makes an average of 400 Rwandan Francs in a day - that’s about 75 cents. They talk and laugh as they trudge up the hill, and many stop to gape at the uzungu and to greet us. As they continue down the road, they each peel off into their designated tea rows, and disappear into the sea of vibrant green.
We waited there long enough for the school day to start, and children began to emerge from all sides. And they proceeded to stare. In Rwanda we were stared at outright a lot more than in other places. On many rural roads, where we enjoyed many walks (and waits), people would stop dead in their tracks, crane their necks to get a better look, slowly turn as we passed, and hold curious
Cool pack
We tried to get her to exchange packs with us, but no luck. and slightly fearful stares for long minutes. Children are brilliant at this. Their stares are interrupted only by their own uncontrollable giggles. These school-bound kids in the hills around Nyungwe gathered first on the other side of the road, until one intrepid seven year old made his way across and gave us a huge smile and a lovely good morning. The others followed and soon we were surrounded.
There is something inherently beautiful and hopelessly heartwarming about a group of children headed to school, and this glorious setting only magnifies the feeling. And there is something so jarring about the mix of this beauty, those beaming children, and the genocide memorial that stood beside us. It began to feel almost inevitable in Rwanda that in the most beautiful places, literally some of the most beautiful and peaceful-seeming places I have ever seen, reminders of the ugliest human behavior would emerge. There is an incongruity about it that is hard to understand, but in other ways, it is completely consistent with everything else. Rwanda is full of wonderful people, of hope, and of very active investment in the future. And amongst all this, only very barely beneath the surface of
daily life and human interaction, is the memory of the 1994 genocide, and fear of the next catastrophe. One more layer of this glorious, harrowing and heartwarming country . . .
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Sarah Dean
non-member comment
Sounds and looks like you two are continuing to have an incredible adventure. Keept the stories and photos coming!