Instead of writing an entry catching up on everything that has
happened and is happening in my life, I will ask for forgiveness for my radio
silence and give an explanation. But please, be patient; this isn't easy.
I leave Kigali in a little over three weeks. In 24 days I am
boarding an airplane to return to the United States. At the one-month-remaining
mark I felt anxious. I wondered what contribution I have made in my time here
and why it matters that I came. I have taken so much from Rwanda and I hate
feeling that the relationship is not mutual. I combated this anxiety with the
opportunity to work on the youth survivor research project with the team and
discussing with a coworker about the best way to create change in HIV/AIDS
treatment for survivors who were raped during the genocide. Because although I
know I cannot change the world or “save” Rwanda, I’d like to think that no
matter where I am, I can make a positive contribution. In the end, I can never
give this country what it has given me.
At first, this blog was about chronicling my experiences in
Kigali as I adapted to a new environment and the trials and tribulations in
that process. Stories and anecdotes were at times very personal but still
written from an outside perspective. I witnessed everything without being immersed
in anything. Somewhere between battling cockroaches and questioning gender
norms, it became writing about my life, not my “abroad experiences.” I can be
fairly open about my experiences in a new place (i.e. see Toilet Talk) but
letting others read about my life now seems exploitative. I am involved in the
research that I am because it matters and it is an excellent opportunity for me
to learn more about qualitative analysis. I spend time with friends (both
muzungu and otherwise) because they are good people. I have developed real
feelings for Scrm because he is caring and vulnerable and he brings out a lot
of the best in me. I stopped writing several times in that last sentence,
afraid and hesitant to share so much of myself.
That is what Rwanda has become to me. Too close. I am an
active member in the world I am writing about and that scares the hell out of
me. I am still stared at and treated differently for being muzungu and that
would never change. Throughout the past few years, life broke my heart. And
like any good heart break, one is wary to put herself out there again. I
remained, to a great extent a spectator. And then I landed in Kigali and
nothing in me will ever be the same. Life still hurts sometimes. Bad things
will happen and sometimes life just sucks. But in the same breathe, life will
go on.
In the past few weeks I have had important and meaningful
experiences from reading and coding survivor interviews and defending
confidentiality to an intense and frustrating debate about the word ethnicity
in Rwanda. About realizing how important the friendships I have made are to me
and how unique each person is. Acknowledging that the life that I am living
right now is about to end in what is expected to be one of the most painful
loses of my life. With no intention of being dramatic. My heart will break. And
it will heal.
The sun will rise April 13 and I will be there to greet the
coming day with the fearless compassion and devotion I have developed in recent
months.
No edits, no filters. The stunning beginning to a new day.
Thank you for your heartfelt and meaningful blog, Erika. It took a lot of pain and effort to share your innermost thoughts, those which you were able to share, and that pain and effort is not lost on those who read your blog entry.
ReplyDeleteMany of our difficult and painful life experiences are such incredible gifts, because they move us to become leaders and educators, allowing our experiences to rub off, if only slightly, with those around us. It will take you quite a while to process your incredible time in Rwanda and what your friendships and experiences mean to you. And over time, the lessons you think you were meant to learn will change.
So you will become a very new and different person, and as a result from the one who left three months ago. You will change others - some profoundly, some only tangentially. It's kind of like throwing a huge stone in a pond, and the initial resulting concentric waves are large, strong, and push the water away from the stone. Other smaller waves form and create other waves, then ripples, then barely perceptible ripples; then silence. If you are able to impart what you've learned from your journey to Rwanda to others, educating just by being a changed person who does not take life for granted, you will most certainly be that stone.
I am looking forward to being on that first wave once you get back to the US and hit the pond.
Love you, lady! And although I don't know any of the new and wonderful friends you've made, please give them my (and my family's) best.