There is value in keeping one's mouth shut

Am back to work after a very...full weekend. The house I live in has many different rooms, and though no one is currently living with me full time, there is a project being run about an hour from Kigali that rents out several rooms for its workers, who drop in from time to time. This weekend was one of those times. After my run on Friday I came home to a full house. Countries represented: Burundi, Rwanda, Israel, and the US. When living and working with people from many different countries, it is amazing the depth of conversation that comes about at the dinner table.

As several of us were discussing possible plans for dinner, the Rwandan asked me about my initial impressions of Rwanda. This is a tricky question-there are a lot of things that are amazing about Rwanda. But it is very different from my experience in West Africa, and I find negotiating the issue of the genocide-the white elephant that is often in the room- very difficult. After spending some time feeling this Rwandan out, I felt comfortable enough to mention that I didn't really know how to negotiate acknowledging this enormous event, thus not pretending that I don't know it happened, without opening old wounds and unwanted pain. And thus began a pretty amazing tale. This man is a survivor of the genocide and watched his mother and sister be slaughtered in front of him. His father had been killed in massacres before the actual triggering point of the genocide in 1994. He talked about the years leading to 1994-how one day (1992ish) at school his teacher asked the Tutsi to stand up, and he did not stand up because he didn't know what he was. The teacher then asked the Hutu to stand. He didn't stand. The teacher asked the Twa to stand. He still didn't know when to stand. So the teacher told him that she knew his family and that he was Tutsi. The beginning of a renewed attempt to re-emphasize ethnic divides based essentially on Belgium's manufactured divide and conquer technique-dating back to colonization in the 60's when Belgium decreed the 10% Tutsi population to be the preferred ethnic group, who consequently received economic and political kickbacks, thus securing their loyalty and assisting in managing the Hutu majority. He spoke of a time when his best friend from school came over and grabbed one of his chickens. "Why are you taking my chicken?" he asked his friend. "You Tutsi will all be dead and I will take your chickens then, but I need one now" replied his friend. He also talked about the roadblocks and how the Hutu had devised some scientific measurement scheme to prove your ethnicity by measuring the circumference of your head and nose etc.-apparently I would not have been able to pass through, my nose is too small. After several specific horrific stories, we talked more about Rwanda today. As I understand it, Rwanda's present day Constitution acknowledges the genocide against the Tutsi. It does not, however, acknowledge what many argue was a genocide against Hutu moderate. It is a very difficult question to tackle, so I asked him what he thought of this. In his mind, no genocide against the Hutu occurred. Period. And frankly, I was not here, and I don't really know. But from my understanding, within an hour of the former President's plane was shot down, a set of lists of moderate Hutu (who would ostensibly try to stop their extremist counterparts) and Tutsi were systematically followed to begin slaughtering hundreds. And so from whispers around here and from the West, it is politically difficult to acknowledge the genocide of the Tutsi without simultaneously acknowledging the great loss of life of Hutu moderates. Though our conversation did beg the intellectual question of whether the massacre of Hutu could technically be considered genocidal if it was orchestrated by their own ethnic group (as genocide is defined as the act of ethnic cleansing). A question I acquiesce to the authority of my professors back home.

My colleague's gardener of one year was also arrested last week for his role in the massacre of ten families. Difficult for my colleague-he likes this man, trusts this man, the man played with his daughter. But as the Rwandan at my dinner table pointed out, the genocide was orchestrated with machetes, not machine guns, and massacring 800,000 people in one hundred days in that way required a lot of participation. The Gacaca courts-the local courts held to try less serious offenders-happen at least once a week still. So 15 years later, people are still going to jail.

Anyways. After that heavy discussion, we went for a great dinner at this very nice hotel near our house, and then the tone switched to the expat M party hosted by four UK guys (former speech writers for Tony Blair, now working as representatives of the UK President). The M party demanded that you dress as something beginning as the letter M. As I had not been planning to go, I ignored the demand. But I was amazed at how many people took this very seriously. There were Michael Jacksons, Madonna's, Miners, my colleague from the UN went as a representative from MONUC (the peacekeeping operation in Congo), pregnant Mothers to be, etc. Very fun. There was one very snobby guy from the UK who was lamenting the terrible music (and it was pretty bad), who announced he was pissed. I regaled him with the old tale of Winston Churchill's wife saying "You're Pissed!" and he says "and you're ugly, but I'll be sober in the morning". He asked me which one of us was which, and I gave him the pissed role. It won me brownie points. He was v. impressed.

On Saturday, I went with my American friend, Benna, and my Burundian friend, Sonia, into town to get coffee. The place we were hoping to go to was closed for renovations, so we went the the Hotel Serena, a very swank hotel near my office. Unfortunately swank=ridiculously expensive, and my latte was instead a bizarre cold coffee like drink with a scoop of ice cream in it. Hmm. When I returned home, another Israeli, an older man, arrived to stay the evening. He's a neat guy-one might say he has an abrasive personality, but being that I myself have had such accusations thrown at me, we got along well. It was interesting to have his perspective on the genocide-being an Israeli, his position (and granted, he had a thick Israeli accent so perhaps I'm misrepresenting slightly), was that though it was tragic, it was one country doing it within their borders to themselves. Interesting that even in the face of genocide, victims are more willing to distinguish the uniqueness of positions rather than identifying with one another.

He also had an interesting position on the UN-largely he wasn't impressed. He can't understand why it is ok for Russia to invade Georgia, the States to hold Guantanamo Bay in Cuba and go into Iraq, but its not ok for the Israelis to protect themselves against Hamas, and by extension, the Palestinian Authority. A position I can somewhat understand, but not entirely agree with. The problem, then, is both the Rwandan and the Israeli have a particular perspective that is vehemently held as the "right" perspective. Being that I am neither Rwandan or Israeli, nor was I present during the genocide or the attacks, it is difficult for me to hold a position. Academically, I feel a bit more confident in doing so, but personally it is very tough.

What was emphasized this weekend is a lesson I had already learned in the UK when interacting with my Middle Eastern friends. Largely, sometimes its ok to keep your mouth shut (from the girl who rarely closes hers). Given our different backgrounds and experiences, we often hold very different and sometimes conflicting perspectives. My Middle Eastern friends, for instance, were flabbergasted that I would associate with my queer friends. My queer friends were angry that I would become friends with people so adamantly opposed to homosexuality. The bottom line is, I'm not going to change my mind about human rights. I'm for them. I know what my position is on that and I am comfortable with that. That said, I still think it is important to negotiate dialogue and hear the other side. Interestingly enough, one Middle Eastern friend was floored that I wasn't trying to change his mind; I simply held my position. I think, in the end, this tactic earned me more respect, and consequently though I don't think he's going to warmly embrace homosexuality, he will have to think twice because someone he respects holds a very different position.

On Sunday I went to the Genocide Memorial Museum with Benna, but this post is getting long enough and I have work to do. All in all it was an excellent if difficult weekend, and work is proving to be a bit of a relief.