April 7th marked the beginning of a three-month national mourning period to commemorate the victims of the 1994 Genocide. During the week of April 7-13th the National Commission to Fight Against Genocide organizes events nationwide to honor the memory of those who perished.
Leading up, I had hoped the week and the events scheduled in my community would be a chance for me to be a positive presence and really integrate in my community. In retrospect it was incredibly naïve and insensitive of me to expect genocide victims and survivors to discuss such traumatic events with the new foreign white girl in town who barely understands the language. To put it simply, the week was depressing and I think confusing for everyone, including myself.
I woke up on the 7th and prepared myself for the community event at the local memorial site, which I knew was planned. I was unclear at what time everything was happening (a common predicament in my life), but I figured I would just go with my roommates.
As the minutes and then hours passed with no sign of life from my roommates’ rooms other than the really loud radio playing sad songs about the genocide, I began to get anxious. Finally, one of my roommates emerged and told me the community event was at 2 PM. But two o’clock came and went and no one in my house seemed to be going anywhere. When I finally asked if we were going, my roommate told me she did not like going to any memorial sites because it was too difficult. I later found out both her parents and two siblings were killed in the genocide. She was barely ten years old.
Although I missed the opening event, I attended most of the afternoon discussion sessions the rest of the week. I understood next to nothing, no one offered to translate and I didn’t think it appropriate to ask. Throughout the week I observed friends who I thought were incredibly outgoing and cheerful really shut down. I am hoping my presence was seen as a sign of respect and solidarity as well as a step in the right direction.
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