Only really knowing Rwanda for the horrific genocide in the 90s, I had no idea what to expect from this tiny country. As it turned out, it was one of the most friendly and positive countries I had been to. But just what would the ‘Land of a Thousand Hills’ do to my underpowered and unreliable tuktuk?
I noticed a change almost immediately after crossing the border; so many people smiling, waving, saying hello, riding bicycles alongside the tuk, and best of all small children busting out spontaneous dance moves when the mobile disco that was my tuktuk drove past (early 90s dance music seemed popular). It was late afternoon when I crossed, but I had some difficulty finding somewhere to stay for the night. What was strange was how many people appeared out of nowhere any time I stopped to check my map. I could stop in a tiny village, no more than a few houses along the main road, and within 30 seconds I would have about 40 people crowded around The Zebra. Just as well everyone was so friendly as in the dark this could be quite unnerving. I finally found somewhere to stay (and also get a shave, even if he did cut in a Three Musketeers moustache in the process), and the next day took a cross country route to Kigali.
Having read a few books on the genocide (including the excellent Shake Hands with the Devil written by the leader of the UN forces there), and having just watched Hotel Rwanda I was keen to see the genocide memorial in Kigali. What I wasn’t prepared for was how affecting it was going to be. As you might imagine from a period where 800,000 people were butchered in three months, there are so many horrifying stories, but the thing that really broke me was the children’s room. This was a room in which portrait sized photos of children had been hung up, with a small note about each of them. The note would read something like:
Name: Melody
Age: 2
Favourite food: Beans and rice
Best friend: Her daddy
Cause of death: Stabbed in the eyes and head
What also took me aback was speaking to some of the people working there (and elsewhere in Kigali) and realising how virtually everyone in the country was affected in one way or another. People who had lost parents and siblings, seen mounds of mutilated bodies in the street, and inevitably some people who had been the perpetrators. In fact I saw some of the genocidaires during my time in the country, working out their sentences in chain gangs wearing orange jumpsuits.
Emotionally shellshocked, it wasn’t until I got back to the hostel that I realised I had lost my camera, and despite retracing my steps it was not to be seen again. This was just before my birthday, but luckily I got chatting to a local girl called Magic (well, actually she is called Dalida but people call her Magic) and she invited me along to join her ‘running club’. So rather than spend my birthday sulking by myself I went along and had a lot of fun instead.
The next day Magic was kind enough to show me around the city, so we took a ride up to one of the hills overlooking Kigali (the tuktuk only conked out once on the way up) for some glorious views, and later had a drink at the Milles Collines (one of the fanciest in the city and the hotel featured in the film Hotel Rwanda).
Then, just like the Littlest Hobo, I was on the road again, heading north. Despite my fears, the tuktuk made it to Ruhengeri, and I took a trip out to Lake Kivu and the Congo-Nile trail. A scenic but undeveloped track along the lakeshore, the route proved to be a little too challenging for The Zebra. A steep gradient saw her underpowered engine make no progress, but luckily some help was at hand. A group of local kids were kind enough to give me a push, but when we reached flat ground and the engine was still struggling I looked around to see what was happening and saw that I had about 15 kids now hanging off the back! There were so many in fact that at one point I popped a wheelie and drove a fair way down the road on just the two back wheels. The hop ons did prove useful though, as at subsequent steep sections they jumped off and pushed. We said our goodbyes when I hit tarmac again (we had a little disco to celebrate first), and after a stopover back in Ruhengeri it was on to Uganda.
