The Call of Africa

The Mazungas. Archbishop

Samuel is second from right

Two Swedes are taking the

picture.

The children's choir

The church was beautiful, with 20 large windows around a huge sanctuary with views of the Rwandan mountains. There were four adult choirs and a children’s choir with at least 25 energetic, joyful children with very good voices. Only a few people got up to dance because there were probably 400 to 500 people there. Africa time was operating, as when church started the pews were less than ¼ full, and by the end of the service they were at least 2/3 full. The pews are hard wood slats for the seat and only two slats high up for the back. The service was just over three hours (read: complaining back). The sermon was focused on positive thinking with only a few references that I could not translate into my own perspective. There were four people there from a Swedish Methodist church who work with handicapped children, and the church has a center there for such children—mostly mentally handicapped. The church provided translators to sit with us. Afterward children came up to greet us and give us a hug. It was a heart-warming experience. One of the men from Sweden told a quote: “Once you have tasted the water of Africa, you will be thirsty the rest of your life.” I know what he means. There is something so primordial, so captivating to the soul about the land and the people. There has to be for so many Westerners to keep coming back to a place with dangerous sanitation, almost constant physical stressors, and such a totally unfamiliar way of life. The beauty of the land is not enough, and I don’t think guilt over how the West abandoned Rwanda is enough either. I am learning more about the times we are now in and the historical cycle of evolution which has led humanity to this choice point in finding greater connection and cooperation with our environment and with one another, or face the possible extinction of our planet. I have recently heard about how science has found that all of humanity can trace their ancestry to Africa, and that it is now believed that humans originated in Central Africa. It makes sense to me that the hub of conscious evolution could then be in Central Africa.

I am having to admit that the events of Friday had more impact on me than I recognized. There is no way to describe the intensity of the energy, the depth of the angst or the helplessness that you feel when you want to help. I am still processing, trying to let my body recuperate (I didn’t go to visit a cooperative today and rested instead), and to make sense of the big picture of the lessons for me and for the young people who experienced such tremendous trauma. Lori is carefully mentioning to people like the Archbishop that although she does not have answers, it is very important to find a balanced way to commemorate the genocide victims without re-traumatizing as is happening now. The Archbishop and others are aware that children who did not experience the genocide are now traumatized through the continued memories of the culture.

We begin another week tomorrow. I am anxious to see how our twelve did over the weekend, and what will be needed in the school. I may not be writing every night, as I know I need to pay more attention to recuperation from the intensity of the days.