Interesting trend.
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/12/25/science/earth/25fossil.html?pagewanted=1&_r=1&ref=africa
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Monday, October 25, 2010
Link
Some good new stuff up @ www.davidlansing.com. Check it out this week when you need a couple stories to read.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Rwanda & Genocide, Pt. 2
Rwanda Today
I've spent the most thought of all on how to relate the past couple of posts. And again with this one, I just don't know how to begin or how my words could suffice. But of all the stories and experiences from the past five months, the account of Rwanda is really the most important. It has become a sort of personal vendetta for me to help anyone reading (Americans in particular) to understand what happened there, and to realize that it is important to all of us. The Rwandan genocide was not another ethnic conflict, isolated and shadowed halfway around the world from us. We are not apart from it, because it really boils down to a catastrophic exposition of human nature and the way our world works, all too often. And we must face it. We are part of an American culture that is isolated and numbed by our own media stories, and largely ignorant of the rest of the world. I wrote the previous post in attempt to help us understand the present situation and to emphasize that we all are responsible, in some way. I did not mean it to be a historical lesson, but a sort of representative story of how our world works, and what happens when we let it run unchecked. Men are weakened by power, and that collective weakness can be utterly catastrophic. And I mean to enforce guilt as well. American politicians and naive citizens sat on their hands until it was too late. But the real guilt is to be found when you hear the stories, meet the people, and in turn 1994 becomes a sort of mirror whereby you look back and see yourself.
But there are equally powerful lessons to learn from Rwanda today, not necessarily to be found only in looking back to piece together what happened in 1994, although the media and the UN continue to do so (with the intent to place blame). If you haven't had a chance to read through the previous post (Pt.1), please scroll there before reading here.
I don't like statistics. We hear them too often. Organizations use them to raise money, which they often waste. But I'm going to list some of them here, for the sake of contrast. I just don't trust my own words without some numbers to back them up.
Rwanda is about the size of Vermont, but with a population of 10.5 million people (600,000 in Vermont). It is the most densely-populated country in Africa. There are people everywhere. But about 90% of the population still lives in rural areas, farming small plots of land for subsistence. Outside of Kigali the capital, it is basically one vast, green, hilly countryside. Because there are so many people, there seems to be a new family plot or village every couple of kilometers. People are coming and going everywhere along roadways and paths, on bikes and foot, carrying tools or the day's harvest on their heads.
Population control is a major issue there today. Half of the total population is under the age of 24, because so much of the adult population was killed or driven out during 1994. The median age for the entire population is 19. The country must figure out how to absorb this generation and the next as they have children. Over 100,000 children remain orphaned.
After 1994, a few men had the foresight to realize that Rwanda was at risk of losing an entire generation after so many young people lost their parents or were forced out as refugees. Two men in particular - Paul Kagame and John Rucyahana - enforced that reconciliation was the only option, before beginning to rebuild and establish a formal government. They recognized that Rwanda was in danger of completely falling apart - abandoning an entire generation to refugee status. They focused on bringing the refugees home as soon as possible, convincing millions to return within a matter of two years. To address the daunting task of bringing genocidaires to justice, Kagame implemented a community-based system (called gacaca) whereby village-elected judicial panels sentenced guilty members based upon witness accounts. The Bishop returned and became the face of reconciliation throughout the country, leading Rwandans to heal and forgive each other. He established villages throughout the countryside where victims and perpetrators worked to heal together and live alongside one another again, as before. I credit these two men with unifying the country amidst so much uncertainty.
Rwanda had a sort of new beginning after the events of 1994. The reconstruction effort was built upon forgiveness first, as Rwandans believe that was their only option for moving forward.
After all of my travels throughout Africa, Rwanda remains the most captivating place I have visited. It is futile to compare tragedies - but it is certain that there is no place in the world where people have had to undergo such intimate suffering and healing, so personally and so recently, as in Rwanda. There is more grace and hospitality amongst people there than I have ever encountered before. It is as if the reconciliation process has freed the Rwandans to be genuine and heal as human beings, being completely honest and emotionally transparent with each other. Behind strong leadership (and sometimes authoritarian leadership, an example which might allow us to champion "democracy" as merely an alternative, at least a conditional one, and not necessarily the solution), Rwandans have taken ownership of the process. They have taken ownership of their communities and national development like I have seen nowhere else - certainly not in America.
And here's why Rwanda matters. That tiny country has an opportunity to build an example that can serve for an entire continent, and beyond. Like no other people (population may be more correct to say), Rwandans have experienced the worst of humanity, a living hell, and come out the other side to take ownership of recent history, free of denial and pent-up emotion, and seek together what it means to forgive and heal amidst this ongoing human struggle. Theirs is the most beautiful country and culture I've ever seen, devoid of resources which would lead nations such as ours to jockey for ownership. Kagame leads with a chip on his shoulder and refuses to sell out to foreign governments or aid organizations that would only throw money around according to their own agendas, at the expense of Rwandan culture. As a result, Rwanda now is recognized as the most stable and secure country in central/eastern Africa, and the least corrupt country on the continent.
Fifteen years ago, there were no paved roads in Rwanda outside of Kigali. Nor was there running water or electricity. Life expectancy was forty years, and AIDS prevalence hovered around ten percent. Two million of its citizens (at least) were displaced while the countryside burned around mass graves and abandoned military checkpoints. Today there are highways between towns and there is hydroelectric power. People are everywhere, coming and going and harvesting and dancing and laughing. They live together again, side by side. Genocide perpetrators and their victim neighbors are forming business partnerships together. Over 90 percent of Rwandans vote in national elections. 95 percent of children are in school (where a vast amount are still orphans). There are children in blue and tan uniforms running around everywhere. They are happy. They have aspirations. There are new universities. The government is sponsoring scholarships for its top students to study in the U.S. and then return home. 95 percent of Rwandans are covered under the national healthcare plan, with premiums of about two dollars per year. Kigali is a gleaming, modern city with a gorgeous new convention center and a great airport. The contrast is difficult to fathom.
I have incredible stories from the journey. I shared new experiences with amazing people. I experimented and detached myself for a while. After all the new places, and sights, and reflection time, Rwanda has my heart. We all have something to learn from Rwanda.
http://www.newsweek.com/2009/04/04/a-message-of-hope-from-a-pile-of-bones.html
Peace & Love.
I've spent the most thought of all on how to relate the past couple of posts. And again with this one, I just don't know how to begin or how my words could suffice. But of all the stories and experiences from the past five months, the account of Rwanda is really the most important. It has become a sort of personal vendetta for me to help anyone reading (Americans in particular) to understand what happened there, and to realize that it is important to all of us. The Rwandan genocide was not another ethnic conflict, isolated and shadowed halfway around the world from us. We are not apart from it, because it really boils down to a catastrophic exposition of human nature and the way our world works, all too often. And we must face it. We are part of an American culture that is isolated and numbed by our own media stories, and largely ignorant of the rest of the world. I wrote the previous post in attempt to help us understand the present situation and to emphasize that we all are responsible, in some way. I did not mean it to be a historical lesson, but a sort of representative story of how our world works, and what happens when we let it run unchecked. Men are weakened by power, and that collective weakness can be utterly catastrophic. And I mean to enforce guilt as well. American politicians and naive citizens sat on their hands until it was too late. But the real guilt is to be found when you hear the stories, meet the people, and in turn 1994 becomes a sort of mirror whereby you look back and see yourself.
But there are equally powerful lessons to learn from Rwanda today, not necessarily to be found only in looking back to piece together what happened in 1994, although the media and the UN continue to do so (with the intent to place blame). If you haven't had a chance to read through the previous post (Pt.1), please scroll there before reading here.
I don't like statistics. We hear them too often. Organizations use them to raise money, which they often waste. But I'm going to list some of them here, for the sake of contrast. I just don't trust my own words without some numbers to back them up.
Rwanda is about the size of Vermont, but with a population of 10.5 million people (600,000 in Vermont). It is the most densely-populated country in Africa. There are people everywhere. But about 90% of the population still lives in rural areas, farming small plots of land for subsistence. Outside of Kigali the capital, it is basically one vast, green, hilly countryside. Because there are so many people, there seems to be a new family plot or village every couple of kilometers. People are coming and going everywhere along roadways and paths, on bikes and foot, carrying tools or the day's harvest on their heads.
Population control is a major issue there today. Half of the total population is under the age of 24, because so much of the adult population was killed or driven out during 1994. The median age for the entire population is 19. The country must figure out how to absorb this generation and the next as they have children. Over 100,000 children remain orphaned.
After 1994, a few men had the foresight to realize that Rwanda was at risk of losing an entire generation after so many young people lost their parents or were forced out as refugees. Two men in particular - Paul Kagame and John Rucyahana - enforced that reconciliation was the only option, before beginning to rebuild and establish a formal government. They recognized that Rwanda was in danger of completely falling apart - abandoning an entire generation to refugee status. They focused on bringing the refugees home as soon as possible, convincing millions to return within a matter of two years. To address the daunting task of bringing genocidaires to justice, Kagame implemented a community-based system (called gacaca) whereby village-elected judicial panels sentenced guilty members based upon witness accounts. The Bishop returned and became the face of reconciliation throughout the country, leading Rwandans to heal and forgive each other. He established villages throughout the countryside where victims and perpetrators worked to heal together and live alongside one another again, as before. I credit these two men with unifying the country amidst so much uncertainty.
Rwanda had a sort of new beginning after the events of 1994. The reconstruction effort was built upon forgiveness first, as Rwandans believe that was their only option for moving forward.
After all of my travels throughout Africa, Rwanda remains the most captivating place I have visited. It is futile to compare tragedies - but it is certain that there is no place in the world where people have had to undergo such intimate suffering and healing, so personally and so recently, as in Rwanda. There is more grace and hospitality amongst people there than I have ever encountered before. It is as if the reconciliation process has freed the Rwandans to be genuine and heal as human beings, being completely honest and emotionally transparent with each other. Behind strong leadership (and sometimes authoritarian leadership, an example which might allow us to champion "democracy" as merely an alternative, at least a conditional one, and not necessarily the solution), Rwandans have taken ownership of the process. They have taken ownership of their communities and national development like I have seen nowhere else - certainly not in America.
And here's why Rwanda matters. That tiny country has an opportunity to build an example that can serve for an entire continent, and beyond. Like no other people (population may be more correct to say), Rwandans have experienced the worst of humanity, a living hell, and come out the other side to take ownership of recent history, free of denial and pent-up emotion, and seek together what it means to forgive and heal amidst this ongoing human struggle. Theirs is the most beautiful country and culture I've ever seen, devoid of resources which would lead nations such as ours to jockey for ownership. Kagame leads with a chip on his shoulder and refuses to sell out to foreign governments or aid organizations that would only throw money around according to their own agendas, at the expense of Rwandan culture. As a result, Rwanda now is recognized as the most stable and secure country in central/eastern Africa, and the least corrupt country on the continent.
Fifteen years ago, there were no paved roads in Rwanda outside of Kigali. Nor was there running water or electricity. Life expectancy was forty years, and AIDS prevalence hovered around ten percent. Two million of its citizens (at least) were displaced while the countryside burned around mass graves and abandoned military checkpoints. Today there are highways between towns and there is hydroelectric power. People are everywhere, coming and going and harvesting and dancing and laughing. They live together again, side by side. Genocide perpetrators and their victim neighbors are forming business partnerships together. Over 90 percent of Rwandans vote in national elections. 95 percent of children are in school (where a vast amount are still orphans). There are children in blue and tan uniforms running around everywhere. They are happy. They have aspirations. There are new universities. The government is sponsoring scholarships for its top students to study in the U.S. and then return home. 95 percent of Rwandans are covered under the national healthcare plan, with premiums of about two dollars per year. Kigali is a gleaming, modern city with a gorgeous new convention center and a great airport. The contrast is difficult to fathom.
I have incredible stories from the journey. I shared new experiences with amazing people. I experimented and detached myself for a while. After all the new places, and sights, and reflection time, Rwanda has my heart. We all have something to learn from Rwanda.
http://www.newsweek.com/2009/04/04/a-message-of-hope-from-a-pile-of-bones.html
Peace & Love.
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Genocide & Rwanda, Pt.1
I’ve saved this sensitive topic to be one of the last. I spent two months of this trip in Rwanda, working and touring and trying my best to figure out what actually happened with the genocidal conflict there – what led to it, and what’s left over today. In the end, Rwanda has shown me more that I could have imagined or could tell now (though I’m going to try), and there is more emotion pent up here than my words could lend justice to.
In 1994, about one million Rwandans were killed in a period of three months. Two million more fled the country as refugees – the beginnings of a humanitarian disaster which still exists today in Eastern Congo and the Kagera region of Tanzania. At the time, the total population of Rwanda counted eight million citizens. Imagine one-eighth of a national population disappearing within the space of a couple of months – the equivalent of 40 million Americans dying before Christmas. It is impossible to meet someone in Rwanda today who was not affected by the events of 1994.
At that time, Americans were flooded with headlines about the end of the Gulf War and the more politically strategic conflict in Bosnia and former Yugoslavia. Before we really knew what was happening, most of those Rwandans had been killed. It is still difficult to fathom the political and media-related failures that allowed the Rwandan genocide to happen in the first place, and continue to allow so much misconception and misunderstanding to persist. For most of us, what we know about Rwanda comes from watching Hotel Rwanda. Most of us really couldn’t find Rwanda on an African map. The economic and political issues of this tiny country aren’t significant to our own news headlines. But their implications are far more important than we know. Because the movie is fairly recent, we still envision Rwanda as an unstable and ungovernable country embroiled in civil war.
But that couldn’t be further from the truth. There’s too much here to try and weave together, but I want to write about what led up to 1994, to try and help us understand what actually happened. There’s a lot to keep track of here, but I really think the story is important to understand. Please be patient with it. In a second part, I’ll write about my experience there and what Rwanda is like today.
Traditionally Rwanda (then Ruanda) was a kingdom of two tribes – the Hutu and Tutsi – and an area that extended far beyond the current national borders. To my knowledge, the two tribes coexisted, traded, and intermarried for hundreds of years prior to the colonial era. The Tutsi were traditionally migrant livestock herders from Ssud or Ethiopia, while the Hutus cultivated land. Because of its remote location in the shadow of Central Africa, its traditional stability and alliance with the unconquered Buganda kingdom (modern-day Uganda), Rwandans remained isolated – they were not subjected to the slave trade, and many elements of their culture persist today.
The Ruanda kingdom was initially colonized (before it was even explored) in the late 1800s by the Germans, who claimed it along with Congo during the Berlin Conference in 1886 (the infamous meeting of European powers, where an Africa map was laid out and the nations took their pick of kingdoms to colonize). In turn, the Germans ceded the colony to the Belgians after WWI. The Belgians established a colonial administration to govern the kingdom. Just like in Kenya, where tribal chiefs became appointees instead of heirs or elected elders, the Belgians usurped the political structure in Rwanda, and the King became a figurehead. From the beginning of the colonial era, the Europeans favored Tutsi Rwandans, apparently for no other reason than their appearance – traditionally, Tutsis are taller, leaner, and lighter-skinned than the Hutus. The arrogant muzungu value system deemed that they cut a more imposing and dignified figure, one more suitable for holding political power. So the Belgians elevated the social status of the Tutsis over the majority Hutus and empowered them through political appointment.
Eventually, the Belgians issued national identity cards which deemed Rwandans officially ‘Hutu’ or ‘Tutsi’ – despite the fact that the two tribes had intermarried for generations and are hardly distinguishable (often not at all) from one another. It seems that certain individuals were labeled at the whim of colonial officials. For the first time, Hutus and Tutsis began to distinguish amongst themselves. I’ve written before how easy it becomes to lose touch with ourselves in midst of the world’s material interests (bullshit) and value systems (often bullshit). After long enough, with those values imposed upon them, Rwandans traded their traditional identity for one defined by segregation and politics. The Europeans, fighting for land holdings from thrones and chambers half a world away, eventually unhinged Rwandans from their core culture. They told Rwandans who they were to become, imposed their European values and political interests, and the damage was done.
As the Tutsis gained an air of superiority and the Hutus struggled to maintain their culture and dignity, tensions finally boiled over. In the late 1950s Hutus staged a rebellion and overthrew the Tutsi political hierarchy. When they realized that Rwanda’s political future (and the enforcement of their own interests) had been stripped from the Tutsis, the Belgians turned to support and arm the new Hutu regime. In 1962 Rwanda declared independence from Belgium. The Belgians continued to support the Hutu government in an effort to maintain their land interests. Eleven years later Juvenal Habyirimana assumed the presidency after a coup, and the Belgians and French began to reach out to his government in attempt to enforce their own political interests (simply another form of colonial imperialism) in Central Africa. For 26 years, the authoritarian and pro-Hutu Habyirimana regime stayed afloat by strategically playing both sides of the Belgian-French rivalry, as the Europeans jockeyed for influence in Rwanda (largely in order to gain access to the vast mineral deposits in Eastern Congo).
This was a season marked by political revolution throughout East and Central Africa; Uganda, Kenya and Rwanda each declared independence after armed revolutions, and Tanzania became communist. Besides the desire for political power, the Hutu revolution was a personal vendetta. They had looked on for fifty years while the Belgians favored their minority Tutsi counterparts, whom they used to view as their Tutsi neighbors. The goal of their revolution was to overthrow the Tutsis and establish an entirely Hutu nation. The revolution quickly turned into civil war. When it became clear that the Hutus had gained the upper hand and the Belgians switched alliance, the results were catastrophic. The empowered Hutus unleashed decades of resentment and killed tens of thousands of Tutsi citizens. After independence in 1962, the remaining Tutsis (numbering in the hundreds of thousands) were expelled and fled the country as refugees. They remained refugees for an entire generation while Habyirimana governed Rwanda under relative stability.
Most of the Tutsi refugees settled in Uganda, alienated but given asylum by the Ugandans and unwelcome in their homeland. Many of the young refugees grew up with a chip on their shoulder, feeling unaccepted. Many of the young men eventually empathized with Museveni’s revolution platform and fought in the Ugandan civil war on his side (Uganda has been fairly well-governed and been economically successful, relatively speaking, but Museveni has become yet another generational African leader). Paul Kagame was one of these young men. After rising through the ranks of Museveni’s freedom-fighting army, Kagame withdrew to help form the Rwandan Patriotic Front in the 1980s. RPF was a political movement formed to unite exiled and disgruntled Tutsi refugees in attempt to return to their traditional homeland. Kagame assumed charge of training the RPF military.
With discreet financial backing from many Western nations, Kagame helped shape RPF into a well-trained and disciplined movement. In 1990 RPF launched an offensive and moved into Northern Rwanda from Uganda. France sent troops to help bolster Habyirimana’s RGF (Rwanda Government Force) troops against RPF in the north. RPF easily defeated the French-backed RGF and advanced until their resources drew thin, at which point they were content to hold territory in Rwanda’s Northern Province and plan their next offensive. This was the beginning of a three-year civil war in the north, as RGF troops fought to hold back the RPF onslaught, and leaders from both sides were at an impasse to negotiate any form of treaty after multiple failed ceasefires. In 1991, while Kagame (now a general) was away in the United States, the RPF commanding general was killed during a gun battle, leaving Kagame to assume overall command of the RPF military and political agenda.
While the military forces traded fire in the north, things were unraveling within Habyirimana’s government in Kigali. It became increasingly clear throughout 1992 and 1993 that he was losing control of his own government as many key ministers and RGF commanders began to lean further in a pro-Hutu extremist direction. At the same time, the U.N. became involved in the saga, working to negotiate between both sides and setting up a series of failed peace talks in Arusha, Tanzania, in attempt to set up a coalition government and organize democratic elections. In 1993 Canadian Major General Romeo Dallaire was assigned to enforce peace talk negotiations and assume command of the U.N. peacekeeping force already in place in Rwanda – largely a group of non-combat personnel assigned to aid negotiations, with a few detachments to provide security for ministers and ex-patriot diplomats. The U.N. never authorized a mission designed to protect Rwandans at home.
Finally, in mid-1993, both sides reached a tentative agreement in Arusha to install a coalition government by the end of the year, with organized elections to follow in 1994. For a fairly new movement comprised of generational refugees fighting under a bespectacled and mysteriously soft-spoken commander, it seems that the RPF got the sweetened half of the deal, securing the rights to a number of key ministerial positions and laying claim to half of the legislative number, despite being a traditional minority in Rwanda. Kagame continued to prove his political motivation and savvy while his outnumbered and inferiorly equipped troops pushed RGF forces back further, toward Kigali.
Through the end of 1993, one attempt after another failed at installing the coalition government in Kigali, to the exasperation of the U.N. Each time RPF delegates were brought in under armed escort, Hutu parliament members raised hell and the charade turned into a screaming match across the aisle, ending with an RPF walkout. Between these political headlines, tensions were reaching a boiling point within the government and in the Rwandan countryside. A new movement, called Hutu Power, was beginning to stir within the Habyirimana regime as he continued to lose grip of his own ruling party. For some reason, the government appeared to be purposefully causing unrest and upending each new attempt at installing the coalition, despite Habyirimana’s repeated support of the effort. Dallaire wrote that ministers and military officers seemed to be answering not to Habyirimana (who was attempting to negotiate and accommodate the U.N.), but to a select number of Hutu elitists and military commanders, amongst them the commander of the para-military national police force, the Gendarmerie, and Colonel Theoneste Bagosora, the Minister of Defense. An increasing amount of pro-Hutu extremist media was being broadcast over radio airwaves throughout the country. The Hutu Power message became clear while its mysterious leaders succeeded in stalling the political process – to permanently fix “the Tutsi problem.”
Which brings us to 1994. After five failed attempts at installing a new government, while Hutu extremists in Habyirimana’s government showed considerable savvy in playing France for additional resources and the U.N. for more time, all hell broke loose. On the morning of April 7, Habyirimana’s plane crashed on descent into Kigali, after attending a new round of negotiations in Tanzania. Habyirimana was killed in the crash. To this day, it is almost unanimous opinion that his plane was shot down, but the debate remains wide-open as to who did it. In my opinion it is not such a mystery. Dallaire wrote about meeting with Bagosora that morning to enlist his support in maintaining peace in the countryside and within the government. Bagosora cut short a meeting with other known Hutu Power leaders and showed up to meet Dallaire looking rested and refreshed, seemingly unsurprised about the plane crash. Dallaire noticed that he struggled to hide a smirk throughout their conversation. One current political figure in Rwanda led me through a series of evidence and confirmed that shortly before the crash, French military members were seen in the area of the airport that contained Habyirimana’s prized anti-aircraft missile system. Today Bagosora is under trial for sponsoring genocide.
Throughout negotiations in 1993 and early 1994, RPF and U.N. officials had caught wind of a mysterious ‘third force’ building strength throughout the countryside. Dallaire eventually learned this was a force of armed civilians being trained by the Gendarmerie to fight the RPF. Dallaire fought against the creation of this force under government supervision, but in the end he was simply a U.N. figurehead weakened by the rules and bureaucracy of his own organization; he was powerless to disarm the mysterious third force while the Hutu Power politicians continued to infiltrate and play off of negotiations with the U.N. security counsel.
After Habyirimana’s plane crash, Dallaire’s worst fears proved true. The third force, armed with machetes and calling themselves the Interahamwe (‘those who attack together’) unleashed havoc in the countryside, herding, slaughtering, and raping their Tutsi and moderate Hutu neighbors while the Gendarmerie and RGF looked on. Millions of civilians fled through the countryside and out of Rwanda while hundreds of thousands were caught up and murdered. The worst of the killings happened in Rwanda’s north, where the Gendarmerie had been headquartered (before RPF drove them out), and swept down through the central and eastern regions, with a wave of refugees running away and spilling over into Tanzania. At the same time, RPF mobilized in force to move south, take Kigali and overthrow the interim government, defeating RGF for good. But it took them three months to get there, while the countryside burned and the killings continued until one million Rwandans were dead. RPF saved and guarded as many as they could, but the panic and violence were too widespread to rein in before they controlled the country. As they advanced, there is also evidence that tens of thousands of Hutus were killed (at least) in revenge. Kagame proved his military brilliance throughout the campaign and is widely credited with stopping the genocide and bringing peace, which RPF did, but I am still confused why they waited throughout 1992 and 1993 to move out of their fortifications in the north and launch their final offensive.
In Rwanda I talked to dozens of people about the events leading up to 1994 – orphans, widows, pastors, former and current government ministers, foreign aid workers – in attempt to piece all of this together. For those of us Americans who hear anything about Rwanda, the stories have usually been distorted by the media. Though I don’t understand the depth of what actually happened, or who the main players were behind the scenes, I do know that what happened is not exactly what I’ve always heard, and the implications from Rwanda are far more important than we realize.
The Rwandan genocide was the boiling point of ethnic tension stirred up during the colonial era. It was also fueled by a complex political situation. But it was genocide – it took the American government months to use the term, and many people still doubt it. It was carefully planned and brutally executed - a Hutu government-sponsored extermination of any person that threatened their aspiration to power, primarily Tutsis, and also moderate and democratic Hutus. Fleeing the RPF invasion, the Interahamwe and Gendarmerie slaughtered any person that villagers or neighbors identified as anti-government, carrying kill lists that had been tallied months in advance. As the genocide continued, Kagame lost control of certain members of his army who, infuriated and seeking revenge, pursued genocidaires and Hutu refugees across national borders and killed tens of thousands more, some innocent. So what began as genocide became an increasingly complex political situation and civil war, until Kagame took over Kigali and was able to rein in his army. The conflict was also fueled by the political aspirations of certain world-power nations, with the French and Belgians jockeying for influence with Hutu Power members, without ever moving to protect civilians, the British arming both sides, and the United States silently working in the background of the RPF movement (to what capacity is still unknown). What results is the most disgusting and catastrophic display of human cowardice and failure that I have ever known. The United Nations knew what was brewing, but was repeatedly made a fool of during political negotiations with the same people who planned the genocide. Rivalry and political interests amongst the security council nations repeatedly denied Dallaire the resources he needed to prevent the genocide from happening and then to protect Rwandan citizens after it was too late. In the end, here is how the situation was summed up by a group of U.N. and western bureaucrats who were sent in to 'assess' the situation six weeks after the killings began: "After a thorough survey of the situation, we will advise our governments not to become involved as the risks are high and all that is here are humans."
I think we owe it to learn what actually happened in Rwanda. We all have something to learn from it. In a way, we are part of it.
Part 2 coming very soon - what Rwanda is like today. It feels great to be back; it was time to come home.
In 1994, about one million Rwandans were killed in a period of three months. Two million more fled the country as refugees – the beginnings of a humanitarian disaster which still exists today in Eastern Congo and the Kagera region of Tanzania. At the time, the total population of Rwanda counted eight million citizens. Imagine one-eighth of a national population disappearing within the space of a couple of months – the equivalent of 40 million Americans dying before Christmas. It is impossible to meet someone in Rwanda today who was not affected by the events of 1994.
At that time, Americans were flooded with headlines about the end of the Gulf War and the more politically strategic conflict in Bosnia and former Yugoslavia. Before we really knew what was happening, most of those Rwandans had been killed. It is still difficult to fathom the political and media-related failures that allowed the Rwandan genocide to happen in the first place, and continue to allow so much misconception and misunderstanding to persist. For most of us, what we know about Rwanda comes from watching Hotel Rwanda. Most of us really couldn’t find Rwanda on an African map. The economic and political issues of this tiny country aren’t significant to our own news headlines. But their implications are far more important than we know. Because the movie is fairly recent, we still envision Rwanda as an unstable and ungovernable country embroiled in civil war.
But that couldn’t be further from the truth. There’s too much here to try and weave together, but I want to write about what led up to 1994, to try and help us understand what actually happened. There’s a lot to keep track of here, but I really think the story is important to understand. Please be patient with it. In a second part, I’ll write about my experience there and what Rwanda is like today.
Traditionally Rwanda (then Ruanda) was a kingdom of two tribes – the Hutu and Tutsi – and an area that extended far beyond the current national borders. To my knowledge, the two tribes coexisted, traded, and intermarried for hundreds of years prior to the colonial era. The Tutsi were traditionally migrant livestock herders from Ssud or Ethiopia, while the Hutus cultivated land. Because of its remote location in the shadow of Central Africa, its traditional stability and alliance with the unconquered Buganda kingdom (modern-day Uganda), Rwandans remained isolated – they were not subjected to the slave trade, and many elements of their culture persist today.
The Ruanda kingdom was initially colonized (before it was even explored) in the late 1800s by the Germans, who claimed it along with Congo during the Berlin Conference in 1886 (the infamous meeting of European powers, where an Africa map was laid out and the nations took their pick of kingdoms to colonize). In turn, the Germans ceded the colony to the Belgians after WWI. The Belgians established a colonial administration to govern the kingdom. Just like in Kenya, where tribal chiefs became appointees instead of heirs or elected elders, the Belgians usurped the political structure in Rwanda, and the King became a figurehead. From the beginning of the colonial era, the Europeans favored Tutsi Rwandans, apparently for no other reason than their appearance – traditionally, Tutsis are taller, leaner, and lighter-skinned than the Hutus. The arrogant muzungu value system deemed that they cut a more imposing and dignified figure, one more suitable for holding political power. So the Belgians elevated the social status of the Tutsis over the majority Hutus and empowered them through political appointment.
Eventually, the Belgians issued national identity cards which deemed Rwandans officially ‘Hutu’ or ‘Tutsi’ – despite the fact that the two tribes had intermarried for generations and are hardly distinguishable (often not at all) from one another. It seems that certain individuals were labeled at the whim of colonial officials. For the first time, Hutus and Tutsis began to distinguish amongst themselves. I’ve written before how easy it becomes to lose touch with ourselves in midst of the world’s material interests (bullshit) and value systems (often bullshit). After long enough, with those values imposed upon them, Rwandans traded their traditional identity for one defined by segregation and politics. The Europeans, fighting for land holdings from thrones and chambers half a world away, eventually unhinged Rwandans from their core culture. They told Rwandans who they were to become, imposed their European values and political interests, and the damage was done.
As the Tutsis gained an air of superiority and the Hutus struggled to maintain their culture and dignity, tensions finally boiled over. In the late 1950s Hutus staged a rebellion and overthrew the Tutsi political hierarchy. When they realized that Rwanda’s political future (and the enforcement of their own interests) had been stripped from the Tutsis, the Belgians turned to support and arm the new Hutu regime. In 1962 Rwanda declared independence from Belgium. The Belgians continued to support the Hutu government in an effort to maintain their land interests. Eleven years later Juvenal Habyirimana assumed the presidency after a coup, and the Belgians and French began to reach out to his government in attempt to enforce their own political interests (simply another form of colonial imperialism) in Central Africa. For 26 years, the authoritarian and pro-Hutu Habyirimana regime stayed afloat by strategically playing both sides of the Belgian-French rivalry, as the Europeans jockeyed for influence in Rwanda (largely in order to gain access to the vast mineral deposits in Eastern Congo).
This was a season marked by political revolution throughout East and Central Africa; Uganda, Kenya and Rwanda each declared independence after armed revolutions, and Tanzania became communist. Besides the desire for political power, the Hutu revolution was a personal vendetta. They had looked on for fifty years while the Belgians favored their minority Tutsi counterparts, whom they used to view as their Tutsi neighbors. The goal of their revolution was to overthrow the Tutsis and establish an entirely Hutu nation. The revolution quickly turned into civil war. When it became clear that the Hutus had gained the upper hand and the Belgians switched alliance, the results were catastrophic. The empowered Hutus unleashed decades of resentment and killed tens of thousands of Tutsi citizens. After independence in 1962, the remaining Tutsis (numbering in the hundreds of thousands) were expelled and fled the country as refugees. They remained refugees for an entire generation while Habyirimana governed Rwanda under relative stability.
Most of the Tutsi refugees settled in Uganda, alienated but given asylum by the Ugandans and unwelcome in their homeland. Many of the young refugees grew up with a chip on their shoulder, feeling unaccepted. Many of the young men eventually empathized with Museveni’s revolution platform and fought in the Ugandan civil war on his side (Uganda has been fairly well-governed and been economically successful, relatively speaking, but Museveni has become yet another generational African leader). Paul Kagame was one of these young men. After rising through the ranks of Museveni’s freedom-fighting army, Kagame withdrew to help form the Rwandan Patriotic Front in the 1980s. RPF was a political movement formed to unite exiled and disgruntled Tutsi refugees in attempt to return to their traditional homeland. Kagame assumed charge of training the RPF military.
With discreet financial backing from many Western nations, Kagame helped shape RPF into a well-trained and disciplined movement. In 1990 RPF launched an offensive and moved into Northern Rwanda from Uganda. France sent troops to help bolster Habyirimana’s RGF (Rwanda Government Force) troops against RPF in the north. RPF easily defeated the French-backed RGF and advanced until their resources drew thin, at which point they were content to hold territory in Rwanda’s Northern Province and plan their next offensive. This was the beginning of a three-year civil war in the north, as RGF troops fought to hold back the RPF onslaught, and leaders from both sides were at an impasse to negotiate any form of treaty after multiple failed ceasefires. In 1991, while Kagame (now a general) was away in the United States, the RPF commanding general was killed during a gun battle, leaving Kagame to assume overall command of the RPF military and political agenda.
While the military forces traded fire in the north, things were unraveling within Habyirimana’s government in Kigali. It became increasingly clear throughout 1992 and 1993 that he was losing control of his own government as many key ministers and RGF commanders began to lean further in a pro-Hutu extremist direction. At the same time, the U.N. became involved in the saga, working to negotiate between both sides and setting up a series of failed peace talks in Arusha, Tanzania, in attempt to set up a coalition government and organize democratic elections. In 1993 Canadian Major General Romeo Dallaire was assigned to enforce peace talk negotiations and assume command of the U.N. peacekeeping force already in place in Rwanda – largely a group of non-combat personnel assigned to aid negotiations, with a few detachments to provide security for ministers and ex-patriot diplomats. The U.N. never authorized a mission designed to protect Rwandans at home.
Finally, in mid-1993, both sides reached a tentative agreement in Arusha to install a coalition government by the end of the year, with organized elections to follow in 1994. For a fairly new movement comprised of generational refugees fighting under a bespectacled and mysteriously soft-spoken commander, it seems that the RPF got the sweetened half of the deal, securing the rights to a number of key ministerial positions and laying claim to half of the legislative number, despite being a traditional minority in Rwanda. Kagame continued to prove his political motivation and savvy while his outnumbered and inferiorly equipped troops pushed RGF forces back further, toward Kigali.
Through the end of 1993, one attempt after another failed at installing the coalition government in Kigali, to the exasperation of the U.N. Each time RPF delegates were brought in under armed escort, Hutu parliament members raised hell and the charade turned into a screaming match across the aisle, ending with an RPF walkout. Between these political headlines, tensions were reaching a boiling point within the government and in the Rwandan countryside. A new movement, called Hutu Power, was beginning to stir within the Habyirimana regime as he continued to lose grip of his own ruling party. For some reason, the government appeared to be purposefully causing unrest and upending each new attempt at installing the coalition, despite Habyirimana’s repeated support of the effort. Dallaire wrote that ministers and military officers seemed to be answering not to Habyirimana (who was attempting to negotiate and accommodate the U.N.), but to a select number of Hutu elitists and military commanders, amongst them the commander of the para-military national police force, the Gendarmerie, and Colonel Theoneste Bagosora, the Minister of Defense. An increasing amount of pro-Hutu extremist media was being broadcast over radio airwaves throughout the country. The Hutu Power message became clear while its mysterious leaders succeeded in stalling the political process – to permanently fix “the Tutsi problem.”
Which brings us to 1994. After five failed attempts at installing a new government, while Hutu extremists in Habyirimana’s government showed considerable savvy in playing France for additional resources and the U.N. for more time, all hell broke loose. On the morning of April 7, Habyirimana’s plane crashed on descent into Kigali, after attending a new round of negotiations in Tanzania. Habyirimana was killed in the crash. To this day, it is almost unanimous opinion that his plane was shot down, but the debate remains wide-open as to who did it. In my opinion it is not such a mystery. Dallaire wrote about meeting with Bagosora that morning to enlist his support in maintaining peace in the countryside and within the government. Bagosora cut short a meeting with other known Hutu Power leaders and showed up to meet Dallaire looking rested and refreshed, seemingly unsurprised about the plane crash. Dallaire noticed that he struggled to hide a smirk throughout their conversation. One current political figure in Rwanda led me through a series of evidence and confirmed that shortly before the crash, French military members were seen in the area of the airport that contained Habyirimana’s prized anti-aircraft missile system. Today Bagosora is under trial for sponsoring genocide.
Throughout negotiations in 1993 and early 1994, RPF and U.N. officials had caught wind of a mysterious ‘third force’ building strength throughout the countryside. Dallaire eventually learned this was a force of armed civilians being trained by the Gendarmerie to fight the RPF. Dallaire fought against the creation of this force under government supervision, but in the end he was simply a U.N. figurehead weakened by the rules and bureaucracy of his own organization; he was powerless to disarm the mysterious third force while the Hutu Power politicians continued to infiltrate and play off of negotiations with the U.N. security counsel.
After Habyirimana’s plane crash, Dallaire’s worst fears proved true. The third force, armed with machetes and calling themselves the Interahamwe (‘those who attack together’) unleashed havoc in the countryside, herding, slaughtering, and raping their Tutsi and moderate Hutu neighbors while the Gendarmerie and RGF looked on. Millions of civilians fled through the countryside and out of Rwanda while hundreds of thousands were caught up and murdered. The worst of the killings happened in Rwanda’s north, where the Gendarmerie had been headquartered (before RPF drove them out), and swept down through the central and eastern regions, with a wave of refugees running away and spilling over into Tanzania. At the same time, RPF mobilized in force to move south, take Kigali and overthrow the interim government, defeating RGF for good. But it took them three months to get there, while the countryside burned and the killings continued until one million Rwandans were dead. RPF saved and guarded as many as they could, but the panic and violence were too widespread to rein in before they controlled the country. As they advanced, there is also evidence that tens of thousands of Hutus were killed (at least) in revenge. Kagame proved his military brilliance throughout the campaign and is widely credited with stopping the genocide and bringing peace, which RPF did, but I am still confused why they waited throughout 1992 and 1993 to move out of their fortifications in the north and launch their final offensive.
In Rwanda I talked to dozens of people about the events leading up to 1994 – orphans, widows, pastors, former and current government ministers, foreign aid workers – in attempt to piece all of this together. For those of us Americans who hear anything about Rwanda, the stories have usually been distorted by the media. Though I don’t understand the depth of what actually happened, or who the main players were behind the scenes, I do know that what happened is not exactly what I’ve always heard, and the implications from Rwanda are far more important than we realize.
The Rwandan genocide was the boiling point of ethnic tension stirred up during the colonial era. It was also fueled by a complex political situation. But it was genocide – it took the American government months to use the term, and many people still doubt it. It was carefully planned and brutally executed - a Hutu government-sponsored extermination of any person that threatened their aspiration to power, primarily Tutsis, and also moderate and democratic Hutus. Fleeing the RPF invasion, the Interahamwe and Gendarmerie slaughtered any person that villagers or neighbors identified as anti-government, carrying kill lists that had been tallied months in advance. As the genocide continued, Kagame lost control of certain members of his army who, infuriated and seeking revenge, pursued genocidaires and Hutu refugees across national borders and killed tens of thousands more, some innocent. So what began as genocide became an increasingly complex political situation and civil war, until Kagame took over Kigali and was able to rein in his army. The conflict was also fueled by the political aspirations of certain world-power nations, with the French and Belgians jockeying for influence with Hutu Power members, without ever moving to protect civilians, the British arming both sides, and the United States silently working in the background of the RPF movement (to what capacity is still unknown). What results is the most disgusting and catastrophic display of human cowardice and failure that I have ever known. The United Nations knew what was brewing, but was repeatedly made a fool of during political negotiations with the same people who planned the genocide. Rivalry and political interests amongst the security council nations repeatedly denied Dallaire the resources he needed to prevent the genocide from happening and then to protect Rwandan citizens after it was too late. In the end, here is how the situation was summed up by a group of U.N. and western bureaucrats who were sent in to 'assess' the situation six weeks after the killings began: "After a thorough survey of the situation, we will advise our governments not to become involved as the risks are high and all that is here are humans."
I think we owe it to learn what actually happened in Rwanda. We all have something to learn from it. In a way, we are part of it.
Part 2 coming very soon - what Rwanda is like today. It feels great to be back; it was time to come home.
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Religion
There are a few things I've saved for the end - topics and experiences I knew I would have to think a lot about before I could write anything down. As this adventure is drawing to a close in a few weeks, I'm in a weird state of mind, torn in several directions. I'm really no more reflective than at any other time during months past. Just tired. I miss home, I miss all of you, and some part of me misses Africa already, even though I haven't left. I suppose that's part of the romance in this place.
There's an irony to the whole thing. I came here to have an adventure, to be somewhere that I might have to surrender my ego and insecurities and bear the pain of learning what really matters about me while realizing that many things I had always thought mattered just don't in the end. But I find myself more uncertain than ever, in general. Africa is a place of contradictions. I've seen the best and worst of humanity, government, and church. Slums and corruption, beauty and culture. I have such a mix of conflicting emotions and thoughts that I find them impossible to sort through sometimes.
I want to write about religion. I say all that before to try and relate how difficult and persistent many of these thoughts have been. They surely won't all flow and connect here, and I'm not sure I can put them to a conclusion. I'll leave it to you to connect them in your own way. After all, religion begins as an affair for each of us, as an individual pursuit.
For centuries, the church has come to 'evangelize' or 'save' the Africans. Often the Christians brought along their own interests and doctrines as the only answer to the religious question, scoffing at African customs before they even understood them. The church viewed African culture as a threat. Africans needed to be 'liberated' from the trap of their own culture. That is such an arrogant attitude that it doesn't even make sense. Many well-intentioned missionaries were blinded by this naive attitude, and many still are.
The results have been destructive, fueling conflicts over land and political issues, and fueling colonialism. The evidence is everywhere. From my perspective, many current African dilemmas and issues can be sourced back to the subjugation and compromise of their original culture by the church. These examples are many. Islam is making its way onto this scene now as well, in similar fashion.
On the other hand, there are incredible examples where I have witnessed the church and its missionaries embrace and revere local culture. There are examples everywhere of individuals who have come and sacrificed under extreme hardship to figure out what it means to be African and Christian. There are countless African pastors who labor for years to influence only a few people, and those few people share everything. They worship together with more conviction, faith, hope, vitality, security and emotion than I have ever witnessed before. This is compared to the church (many of the people, and the institution) I have known, that is often content to settle for less. So have I been, in many ways. Yet we seek to impose our model here on people whose culture is richer and more genuine.
Africans aren't 'something other.' And my experience is that rarely will anything sourced in my own American and church culture [alone] suffice as a solution here. If we can only think in terms of our own rules and models, we will (and already have) pillage(d) the beauty of this place.
If there is an answer to the religious question, and many people seem to have found one, then there must be truth out there. If there is a common human plight or struggle, and there seems to be, then that truth must somehow be universal, beneath us all. Truth resonates; we realize it in the moment. And it binds us. There is a sort of fundamental frequency (physics term; I'm trying whenever I can to apply my formal education in my completely unrelated day-to-day life) and human nature that we all carry. I am sure that there is truth to be found in tribal cultures that have persisted for thousands of years. I am trying my best to find it, claim it, and see what it means or how it connects to the beliefs I brought with me (those which have withstood the journey).
I've witnessed religion (and most other things) in an entirely different cultural context here. And for the first time, I feel free to observe and think about religion without self-interest stirred in. After all, at its core, religion probably shouldn't be thought about in terms of its usefulness. Yes, missionaries and groups can come in the name of their religions and build things that are needed and will bring benefit. But religion becomes real when we are nailed up by some unexpected circumstance and we find ourselves doubting or emptied out. The real encounters happen when religion closes in on us, not the other way around. If we approach it proactively, thinking about its usefulness to us, then maybe we're not as genuine as we could be. Religion is not something to fulfill us through some institution of rite. Religion, at its depth, just cannot be realized through an attitude of self-righteousness. We are not central to its purpose. But maybe we reach a point where there opens up something larger to be part of.
I have seen a disconnect here, a self-centered perception of what's going on around us. We just aren't very well in touch - humans in general, Americans just as much as anyone, and myself at the end of the day. We assume fundamental separations in culture and amongst people, and that inevitably leads to comparison and bias. We are apt to alienate the other side or even attack it without ever considering how we're all connected in a common struggle after we throw aside all the details that just don't really matter.
In the book Blue Like Jazz, a certain chapter is dialogue between the author and a friend. The friend is in despair, pondering the problems of the world, feeling invigorated and helpless all at once, wondering how those problems could possibly run so deeply and how he should respond. And in a moment where I find profound truth, he finally has an epiphany and cries out "I AM THE PROBLEM!"
That realization means more to me now than ever.
Religion is beautiful in Africa. It is full of color and emotion. It's faithful and cultural. At their core, Africans are the most religious people I've ever encountered. There is a universal regard for a creator God, for ancestors and familial ties, for the spiritual aspects of nature. I am speaking here of religion in general, not to the particulars of any specific religion or custom or tradition, though I have witnessed all types - from misguided health-and-wealth megachurches to rural diviner ceremonies and medicine men healing people cursed by black magic. Those are stories for later.
But it is in the Christian church where I have seen the most beauty and the most destruction. I've only ever known a church that tends to isolate itself, claiming the interest of faith or purity. But at some point I looked back and realized it was more about fear and insecurity. And here, more clearly than ever, I see the unfortunate evidence of that.
Here is the connection to the mindset I talked about - what happens when we view religion according to its utility for our interests, when we isolate ourselves behind our own claims or rigid doctrines and look out at 'the rest of the people.' In the end, we are those people. We are the problem.
Until we can figure out our own individual places in the struggle, how we each are part of 'the problem,' and learn to respect and seek beauty in the cultural differences, then I am content to leave Africans to their own God or gods. I have learned from them.
I hope I'm not edging on heresy.
Random story - Keith and I have been in Nairobi this week, staying with the Cottars. There's been some business to take care of, and we just needed to get out of camp for a few days. Through a long chain of events this weekend, we ended up at a funeral memorial for a person I had never even heard of. It was a funeral with an open bar. There are too many details to recount after that. Life is crazy here. And a lot of fun.
Peace & Love.
There's an irony to the whole thing. I came here to have an adventure, to be somewhere that I might have to surrender my ego and insecurities and bear the pain of learning what really matters about me while realizing that many things I had always thought mattered just don't in the end. But I find myself more uncertain than ever, in general. Africa is a place of contradictions. I've seen the best and worst of humanity, government, and church. Slums and corruption, beauty and culture. I have such a mix of conflicting emotions and thoughts that I find them impossible to sort through sometimes.
I want to write about religion. I say all that before to try and relate how difficult and persistent many of these thoughts have been. They surely won't all flow and connect here, and I'm not sure I can put them to a conclusion. I'll leave it to you to connect them in your own way. After all, religion begins as an affair for each of us, as an individual pursuit.
For centuries, the church has come to 'evangelize' or 'save' the Africans. Often the Christians brought along their own interests and doctrines as the only answer to the religious question, scoffing at African customs before they even understood them. The church viewed African culture as a threat. Africans needed to be 'liberated' from the trap of their own culture. That is such an arrogant attitude that it doesn't even make sense. Many well-intentioned missionaries were blinded by this naive attitude, and many still are.
The results have been destructive, fueling conflicts over land and political issues, and fueling colonialism. The evidence is everywhere. From my perspective, many current African dilemmas and issues can be sourced back to the subjugation and compromise of their original culture by the church. These examples are many. Islam is making its way onto this scene now as well, in similar fashion.
On the other hand, there are incredible examples where I have witnessed the church and its missionaries embrace and revere local culture. There are examples everywhere of individuals who have come and sacrificed under extreme hardship to figure out what it means to be African and Christian. There are countless African pastors who labor for years to influence only a few people, and those few people share everything. They worship together with more conviction, faith, hope, vitality, security and emotion than I have ever witnessed before. This is compared to the church (many of the people, and the institution) I have known, that is often content to settle for less. So have I been, in many ways. Yet we seek to impose our model here on people whose culture is richer and more genuine.
Africans aren't 'something other.' And my experience is that rarely will anything sourced in my own American and church culture [alone] suffice as a solution here. If we can only think in terms of our own rules and models, we will (and already have) pillage(d) the beauty of this place.
If there is an answer to the religious question, and many people seem to have found one, then there must be truth out there. If there is a common human plight or struggle, and there seems to be, then that truth must somehow be universal, beneath us all. Truth resonates; we realize it in the moment. And it binds us. There is a sort of fundamental frequency (physics term; I'm trying whenever I can to apply my formal education in my completely unrelated day-to-day life) and human nature that we all carry. I am sure that there is truth to be found in tribal cultures that have persisted for thousands of years. I am trying my best to find it, claim it, and see what it means or how it connects to the beliefs I brought with me (those which have withstood the journey).
I've witnessed religion (and most other things) in an entirely different cultural context here. And for the first time, I feel free to observe and think about religion without self-interest stirred in. After all, at its core, religion probably shouldn't be thought about in terms of its usefulness. Yes, missionaries and groups can come in the name of their religions and build things that are needed and will bring benefit. But religion becomes real when we are nailed up by some unexpected circumstance and we find ourselves doubting or emptied out. The real encounters happen when religion closes in on us, not the other way around. If we approach it proactively, thinking about its usefulness to us, then maybe we're not as genuine as we could be. Religion is not something to fulfill us through some institution of rite. Religion, at its depth, just cannot be realized through an attitude of self-righteousness. We are not central to its purpose. But maybe we reach a point where there opens up something larger to be part of.
I have seen a disconnect here, a self-centered perception of what's going on around us. We just aren't very well in touch - humans in general, Americans just as much as anyone, and myself at the end of the day. We assume fundamental separations in culture and amongst people, and that inevitably leads to comparison and bias. We are apt to alienate the other side or even attack it without ever considering how we're all connected in a common struggle after we throw aside all the details that just don't really matter.
In the book Blue Like Jazz, a certain chapter is dialogue between the author and a friend. The friend is in despair, pondering the problems of the world, feeling invigorated and helpless all at once, wondering how those problems could possibly run so deeply and how he should respond. And in a moment where I find profound truth, he finally has an epiphany and cries out "I AM THE PROBLEM!"
That realization means more to me now than ever.
Religion is beautiful in Africa. It is full of color and emotion. It's faithful and cultural. At their core, Africans are the most religious people I've ever encountered. There is a universal regard for a creator God, for ancestors and familial ties, for the spiritual aspects of nature. I am speaking here of religion in general, not to the particulars of any specific religion or custom or tradition, though I have witnessed all types - from misguided health-and-wealth megachurches to rural diviner ceremonies and medicine men healing people cursed by black magic. Those are stories for later.
But it is in the Christian church where I have seen the most beauty and the most destruction. I've only ever known a church that tends to isolate itself, claiming the interest of faith or purity. But at some point I looked back and realized it was more about fear and insecurity. And here, more clearly than ever, I see the unfortunate evidence of that.
Here is the connection to the mindset I talked about - what happens when we view religion according to its utility for our interests, when we isolate ourselves behind our own claims or rigid doctrines and look out at 'the rest of the people.' In the end, we are those people. We are the problem.
Until we can figure out our own individual places in the struggle, how we each are part of 'the problem,' and learn to respect and seek beauty in the cultural differences, then I am content to leave Africans to their own God or gods. I have learned from them.
I hope I'm not edging on heresy.
Random story - Keith and I have been in Nairobi this week, staying with the Cottars. There's been some business to take care of, and we just needed to get out of camp for a few days. Through a long chain of events this weekend, we ended up at a funeral memorial for a person I had never even heard of. It was a funeral with an open bar. There are too many details to recount after that. Life is crazy here. And a lot of fun.
Peace & Love.
Friday, September 24, 2010
Community Development..
As you can probably see, things have been pretty busy around here.. Contrast this with my last post about Americans. I'm a hypocrite.
(more below)
To make up for my absence the past couple of weeks, please check out David Lansing's blog @ www.davidlansing.com. If you trace the posts back to mid-August (http://davidlansing.com/?paged=7), you'll be able to read about a few of the places I've been hopping around in Kenya. David's blog tells about a few of the key conservation players in this country and should help sort out the web of conservation issues and interests here, also how they play into the web of political organization (which is formidable). Since I've been here, I've been meeting some of these people, listening in on conversations and visiting different areas to learn about the conservation models and challenges. David talks a lot about the Cottars family legacy and safari camp, which is right where I've been working and staying. David had an interesting journey to Samburu and Marsabit a few weeks ago, with Calvin Cottar leading. That region of Northern Kenya is truly a frontier - Somali bandits, warrior cultures, volcanic and desert landscapes. When you walk into a bar up there, you feel like Obi Wan walking into Mos Eisley cantina to meet Han Solo (in other words, there are weapons everywhere and everyone stares). Anyways, back from the nerd Star Wars allusion, if you read into David's journey, you'll get a feel for a few conservation issues and many of the fascinating stories connected to the Cottars family and left over from the colonial era.
Peace & Love.
(more below)
To make up for my absence the past couple of weeks, please check out David Lansing's blog @ www.davidlansing.com. If you trace the posts back to mid-August (http://davidlansing.com/?paged=7), you'll be able to read about a few of the places I've been hopping around in Kenya. David's blog tells about a few of the key conservation players in this country and should help sort out the web of conservation issues and interests here, also how they play into the web of political organization (which is formidable). Since I've been here, I've been meeting some of these people, listening in on conversations and visiting different areas to learn about the conservation models and challenges. David talks a lot about the Cottars family legacy and safari camp, which is right where I've been working and staying. David had an interesting journey to Samburu and Marsabit a few weeks ago, with Calvin Cottar leading. That region of Northern Kenya is truly a frontier - Somali bandits, warrior cultures, volcanic and desert landscapes. When you walk into a bar up there, you feel like Obi Wan walking into Mos Eisley cantina to meet Han Solo (in other words, there are weapons everywhere and everyone stares). Anyways, back from the nerd Star Wars allusion, if you read into David's journey, you'll get a feel for a few conservation issues and many of the fascinating stories connected to the Cottars family and left over from the colonial era.
Peace & Love.
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Stay with me - I'll be back around with a string of new posts very soon. I'm trying to catch up.
I've told myself (and others) throughout this trip that I wouldn't return until I'm ready to, regardless of how much I miss the people or comforts of home. It has been an open-ended adventure from the start. However, in previous weeks a couple of things have happened to make me realize that it is almost the right time to turn back, sooner than later. I'm a little bit restless now. So I'll give myself a little more time to get around, but I've got a ticket back to the U.S. Oct. 15. I'm sure the last month will include a lot of reflection time. I'll be sure to share.
Peace & Love.
I've told myself (and others) throughout this trip that I wouldn't return until I'm ready to, regardless of how much I miss the people or comforts of home. It has been an open-ended adventure from the start. However, in previous weeks a couple of things have happened to make me realize that it is almost the right time to turn back, sooner than later. I'm a little bit restless now. So I'll give myself a little more time to get around, but I've got a ticket back to the U.S. Oct. 15. I'm sure the last month will include a lot of reflection time. I'll be sure to share.
Peace & Love.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Americans
This post is a bit of an indictment.
As Americans, we really don't travel very well. At times, our ignorance of the outside world is laughable, considering our influence and military extend all over the planet. In some ways, we live our lives in every bit the isolated bubble that the Maasai do here. We hear about the Middle East every day, but we really don't know much of culture there or elsewhere in the world. This fact is, all too often, the stereotype for a typical American, myself included. On the other side, one begins to understand why our foreign policy is really a joke. People with the same (mis)understandings climb the political ladder without knowing how to relate to other parts of the world, beyond the ivory tower political issues. We look to exert our American influence through endless rounds of negotiations, we put weapons in the hands of political movements, and we end up with situations like that in Afghanistan today. It's a miserable cycle.
But it doesn't start with political ineptness; it really begins with each of us, individually, when we travel. I venture to believe that America's status throughout the world would be much more amicable if its citizens were a little bit more savvy in their travels.
Countless times since I've been in Africa, I've had conversations with American travelers that have left me shaking my head, inspecting myself. For example, I had a long conversation with an American lawyer in Rwanda. He went to NYU and now prosecutes white-collar crime for the government in NYC. So he's smart and wealthy. Eventually in the conversation, I came around to ask him what his impression of Rwanda was. He said nothing of the nation's progress and wonderful hospitality, nothing of genocide or gorillas. His answer never reached to any level deeper than his own comfort. He complained for a few minutes about the spotty power and lack of hot water. He also complained about the difficulties in transportation (a late flight arrival and uncomfortable roads) and his frustration with trying to wire money over to a bank in advance. I just sat there and nodded, half listening. I'd like to think that I accepted his answer - 'to each his own, I guess.' But I know that I wasn't so graceful. I wanted to shake him, and scream "LOOK AROUND YOU." This must be one of the most stunningly beautiful countries on Earth - the people, the landscape, the wildlife, the culture - the essence of Africa is everywhere. Yet cold water drowns out the surrounding beauty.
We have to realize something: We live in an amazing country. Every day I am away, I look forward to returning to the United States. We are all privileged. But we cannot leave our American bubble and expect the rest of the world to operate the same way. And it's okay. The beauty of other places is to be found in those differences. I learn the most when I learn to embrace the differences and see through them to the underlying culture. We really are never learning much if we only travel with the aim to embrace the comforts of home somewhere else in the world, never willing to drop our sense of entitlement as Americans. The United States seal on our passports in no way signifies that we are better human beings (as my friend Collin emphasizes in his Travelosophy).
I should mention that I can always pick out an American here, because we are the ones that wear safari hats everywhere, even walking around the cities. It makes me laugh. The Chinese and Japanese do it too, but it is impossible to confuse them with an American anyway. If nothing else, the 4-foot-long camera lenses give them away immediately.
I am not immune to this myself. Here are a few of my more 'American' musings over the past few months:
1. At current estimate, I've brought about 8-10 times more bug spray with me than I need.
2. At one point, in the beginning, I went without a shower for 4 days, rather than take one in frigid water. I gave in eventually, and haven't had a hot shower in almost three months now.
3. One night, rushing around Kigali, I agreed to pay a scheming taxi driver 2500 Rwf for a half-mile ride. In my American head, I thought 'that's only about five bucks.' If I were more savvy, I would have realized that I had just paid only two bucks for a 2-hr bus ride to get to the city.
4. My friend Kevin and I took a break from watching an erupting volcano to walk down from the crater and roast marshmallows for supper. Only an American would take up packing space for the novelty of roasting marshmallows in Congo. That large bag of mushrooms could have been replaced with a blanket in our pack. We froze all night, and never slept, in want of that blanket.
A couple of other things:
The latest adventure is brought about by bank fraud. Somebody got ahold of my account info and bled it dry. So here I am in Africa, alone, with no money. It should all be restored in a few weeks, but might cut travels at the end a little short. One of the charges on my account was for 200 bucks at a Canadian liquor store. If nothing else, I threw one hell of a party somewhere in Canada. Gotta love a good party..
A story to end. One woman visiting our safari camp asked for detergent to wash some of her underwear. She washed a couple of pairs and draped them outside her tent to dry. The next morning, a pair was missing, to much confusion. Nobody had any idea where it had gone. But that evening, one of our Maasai guards came to tell us he had spotted a baboon wearing something strange and purple on his head... Hilarious.
Peace & Love.
As Americans, we really don't travel very well. At times, our ignorance of the outside world is laughable, considering our influence and military extend all over the planet. In some ways, we live our lives in every bit the isolated bubble that the Maasai do here. We hear about the Middle East every day, but we really don't know much of culture there or elsewhere in the world. This fact is, all too often, the stereotype for a typical American, myself included. On the other side, one begins to understand why our foreign policy is really a joke. People with the same (mis)understandings climb the political ladder without knowing how to relate to other parts of the world, beyond the ivory tower political issues. We look to exert our American influence through endless rounds of negotiations, we put weapons in the hands of political movements, and we end up with situations like that in Afghanistan today. It's a miserable cycle.
But it doesn't start with political ineptness; it really begins with each of us, individually, when we travel. I venture to believe that America's status throughout the world would be much more amicable if its citizens were a little bit more savvy in their travels.
Countless times since I've been in Africa, I've had conversations with American travelers that have left me shaking my head, inspecting myself. For example, I had a long conversation with an American lawyer in Rwanda. He went to NYU and now prosecutes white-collar crime for the government in NYC. So he's smart and wealthy. Eventually in the conversation, I came around to ask him what his impression of Rwanda was. He said nothing of the nation's progress and wonderful hospitality, nothing of genocide or gorillas. His answer never reached to any level deeper than his own comfort. He complained for a few minutes about the spotty power and lack of hot water. He also complained about the difficulties in transportation (a late flight arrival and uncomfortable roads) and his frustration with trying to wire money over to a bank in advance. I just sat there and nodded, half listening. I'd like to think that I accepted his answer - 'to each his own, I guess.' But I know that I wasn't so graceful. I wanted to shake him, and scream "LOOK AROUND YOU." This must be one of the most stunningly beautiful countries on Earth - the people, the landscape, the wildlife, the culture - the essence of Africa is everywhere. Yet cold water drowns out the surrounding beauty.
We have to realize something: We live in an amazing country. Every day I am away, I look forward to returning to the United States. We are all privileged. But we cannot leave our American bubble and expect the rest of the world to operate the same way. And it's okay. The beauty of other places is to be found in those differences. I learn the most when I learn to embrace the differences and see through them to the underlying culture. We really are never learning much if we only travel with the aim to embrace the comforts of home somewhere else in the world, never willing to drop our sense of entitlement as Americans. The United States seal on our passports in no way signifies that we are better human beings (as my friend Collin emphasizes in his Travelosophy).
I should mention that I can always pick out an American here, because we are the ones that wear safari hats everywhere, even walking around the cities. It makes me laugh. The Chinese and Japanese do it too, but it is impossible to confuse them with an American anyway. If nothing else, the 4-foot-long camera lenses give them away immediately.
I am not immune to this myself. Here are a few of my more 'American' musings over the past few months:
1. At current estimate, I've brought about 8-10 times more bug spray with me than I need.
2. At one point, in the beginning, I went without a shower for 4 days, rather than take one in frigid water. I gave in eventually, and haven't had a hot shower in almost three months now.
3. One night, rushing around Kigali, I agreed to pay a scheming taxi driver 2500 Rwf for a half-mile ride. In my American head, I thought 'that's only about five bucks.' If I were more savvy, I would have realized that I had just paid only two bucks for a 2-hr bus ride to get to the city.
4. My friend Kevin and I took a break from watching an erupting volcano to walk down from the crater and roast marshmallows for supper. Only an American would take up packing space for the novelty of roasting marshmallows in Congo. That large bag of mushrooms could have been replaced with a blanket in our pack. We froze all night, and never slept, in want of that blanket.
A couple of other things:
The latest adventure is brought about by bank fraud. Somebody got ahold of my account info and bled it dry. So here I am in Africa, alone, with no money. It should all be restored in a few weeks, but might cut travels at the end a little short. One of the charges on my account was for 200 bucks at a Canadian liquor store. If nothing else, I threw one hell of a party somewhere in Canada. Gotta love a good party..
A story to end. One woman visiting our safari camp asked for detergent to wash some of her underwear. She washed a couple of pairs and draped them outside her tent to dry. The next morning, a pair was missing, to much confusion. Nobody had any idea where it had gone. But that evening, one of our Maasai guards came to tell us he had spotted a baboon wearing something strange and purple on his head... Hilarious.
Peace & Love.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
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