Nyamata Genocide Memorial

We are a little behind on posting yesterdays blog. We were having some technical issues with the internet and our skills or lack thereof, as bloggers. We were frantically trying to get the pictures from yesterday (I just told her to "photoshop" my whole face!!!)to catch up to the blog.

Our day (Tuesday, August 11th)started at 8:30am we both had a pretty good sleep last night and logged about 5 hours sleep instead of the 2-3 we have had for the past 4 days. Tonight we are making it a very short night and heading to bed very early as Enock is picking us up at 7am tomorrow.

Our adventure today took us from Kigali down, through Gahanga, Mwogo, and across to Ntarama where we stopped at our first up close and personal experience with one of the rural genocidal memorials. At Ntarama there is a church....where the Tutsi's fled to seek shelter....in this Catholic church they would find no shelter instead they found themselves trapped in what was to become their death chamber. Traditionally the church has always been a place of sanctuary and protection and they believed it would once again provide protection from the Interhamwe and the military. The military along with the Interhamwe brutally murdered approximately 5000 Tutsi's, and even after 15 years we could still see the blood stains on the walls from where they murdered the small helpless babies by smashing them against the bricks until they were dead. The victims clothing hangs from the rafters of the church to help any possible survivors identify loved ones or friends. Skulls and bones greet you at the entrance of the church and as you stand in this "house" of protection you can feel and almost hear the horrible atrocities that befell them 15 years ago. Just a short distance up a small rise,sits a house where a charred mattress made of foam lies on the ground with the skin of a mother and her child, permanently burned onto it... they had been trapped in the house and it was set on fire. As we looked around the charred remnants of what was once their home, lying on the floor next to our feet was a large clump of hair. Never as long as we live will we forget that moment.

We left Ntarama and drove through Kanazi, Kanzenze and then directly to another Catholic church in the district of Bugesera in the town of Nyamata. This is the area where the sponsored children come from and where we will be spending our two weeks with World Vision.

At the Nyamata church there were over 10,000 Tutsi's murdered and the gentleman that greeted us at the entrance is a genocide survivor that had been in this very church along with his family. Unfortunately, he does not speak any English at all, and everything was being translated by Enock. Almost immediately we knew that this stop was going to change our relationship with Enock forever. As we watched and listened to him interact with this gentleman we knew that there was a whole lot more to Enock and what was going on in Rwanda than we had been led to believe by the media and other things we had watched and read. The two men were extremely emotional and passionate in their exchange of words. We were mesmerized watching their faces as they spoke to one another. We could almost feel what they were talking about even though you could not understand one word. T heir pain and anguish was palatable and we were very moved by the way two men who only moments before had been strangers, where now sharing something so intimate and personal as the atrocities that they endured and ultimately survived. We were now privy to a scene that we had only read about in books.

The Nyamata memorial is fairly large. Some of you that are reading this blog might be trying to visualize what we are seeing and we are going to try and be as descriptive as possible because it is not what you are picturing in your head. It is not some beautiful tribute or new museum that the government has constructed in the victims memories. It is the original church in the same condition it was in during the genocide with the addition of bullet holes that riddle the ceiling, blood stains on the walls and the cloth that drapes the altar. This is the blood of the innocent victims. As soon as you enter the doors of this church, your eyes cannot believe what is lying all over the pews and floor. The clothing of all the victims has been left on the alter, pews, and floor. There is an area at the back of the church where the floor is literally piled a couple feet high with clothing and again you cannot miss the blood stains on the walls where they also chose to exterminate the babies by smashing their little bodies against the cold hard bricks. A fresh bag, that looks like something you would put potatoes in, leans against the wall. It is filled with new bones that have just recently been found. They are awaiting their final walk to the crypt located behind the church where they will be put to rest with the other 10,000 victims. This number is not a constant, it continues to go up as new remains are being found on a regular basis. The gentleman walked us through the church out the side door and around to the back where a huge underground crypt has been built for the victims remains. One crypt holds numerous coffins, while the other is home to thousands of bones and skulls that line the walls and reach from the floor to the ceiling. There are no lights down there, only from the windows above. It really brings into perspective just how horrible it was. At first we wanted to flee from that crypt, and then we realized how incredibly selfish that would have been. These people had been tricked into coming here to this church for protection, they had no food or water and then they were mercilessly killed in a most horrifying manner. We stayed down there for a long time listening to the two men share their stories of survival. When we could no longer breath and the feeling of all those souls were pressing down upon us, we climbed back up the cold dark stairs and out into the fresh air and sunlight. We left the two men alone when we came out, the realization of what we had witnessed while down there with them was powerful and heart wrenching at the same time. We walked off to the side of the memorial and talked ourselves about how unbelievable it seemed that you could even fit that many people into this church. They were literally sitting ducks in so many regards, the first one being that they believed the church would save them and offer refuge. As grenades and bullets ripped into that church, witnesses have said they were dignified and died quietly with barely a whimper passing their lips. We believe this to be true, and as we walked among their remains we could not hear the sound of their screams.

The killers weren't much of men or otherwise, being able to walk into a place of worship that would not have had room for even a mouse to squeeze into, swinging their machetes and clubs and hitting someone every time. Even being here today we cannot imagine the horrors that unfolded here, and it will be even harder for you...but we ask that you try.

What really jarred us both in a good way today, was the conversation that took place after that visit. Our angel Enock has been very traumatized by the acts of genocide. He told us that he once had a very large family and now there are only 4 members left. We were told that if a "Hutu" taxi driver would have brought us to the memorial sites it would have been a very bad experience for us, he also said that the "Hutu's" that live across the street from this church and who killed all those inside will not come to the church and see what they did. We have been told that no one uses the Tutsi and Hutu reference anymore because of what happened and that the country is in a huge reconciliation process. We are given the impression that the ripples on the water are being smoothed out,that is not what is being told to us today. I was shocked and confused when he started using the words that are supposedly not spoken anymore. We know that there is more to this story and we will just listen as it unfolds because we have no right to comment. There were 2 uncanny plea's for help today, at both the Nyamata and Ntarama genocide sites. We were asked to make sure to share everything we have witnessed with everyone in our country. We promised them both that we would do that for them. We did nothing for them during the genocide, but this is the very least we can do now.

Tomorrow is going to be an incredible day as Enock is opening up to us more and more each day, and we will be traveling to Butare which is south of the town where he grew up, called Nyanza. Enock has never been to the memorial in Butare and we are wondering if we are about to find out if that is where his family was massacred. The drive to Butare is 4 hours long and Enock has repeatedly told us it is going to be a very long day. I think in many regards it is going to be harder for him than us. We cannot tell you what an incredible honor it will be to visit this memorial site with him. With heavy hearts, for both Enock and all the victims who lost their lives in these two places, we must find a way to move forward and keep our promise to share what happened.

Vickie and Carol