The last few days

I'm back safe and sound in England.

So now that's three trips to Africa, no cases of malaria, no other strange tropical diseases or infections (except for the itchy bumps that look like mozzie bites), no muggings, no physical injuries that weren't self inflicted (accidently), no upset stomach, no other 'bad' things... the 'dark continent' is not nearly as dark as people fear.

There are a million thoughts and feelings swirling round my head about everything I've just learned and experienced, but writing about it is proving difficult. Here is a bit of my last days, I will try and coherently express more of what I'm feeling in the coming weeks...

My last week in Africa went really well. I managed to get quite a few interviews at the UN tribunal on my last two days in Arusha through befriending a really nice Nigerian lady - she helped me get my foot in the door more places than I would have on my own! Hearing different departments have completely different responses to my questions made me again question the effectiveness of UN operations, though I think the UN is a good idea, it just needs more legitimacy and (always) more money. For witness support, the UN gives the tribunal a mere $70 per witness per year for medical expenses. In the aftermath of the genocide, giving anti-retrovirals to witnesses is a moral (and logistical) necessity which costs the tribunal $240 per person per month. The massive shortfall is made up through additional fundraising efforts by the already over stretched staff.

Arusha is the launching point for the safari circuit and Mt Kili climbs, not a city you would go to for it's charm. Most travellers spend as little time in the place as possible, so when I returned the hotel staff were really happy to see me. One evening I went out to dinner with Max, a guy that works in the hotel. He had wanted to be a farmer but didn't have the capital, or the land, or the resources to do it and so has worked very hard doing whatever he can. For the past few years he has been working 24 hour shifts at the hotel, earning about $70 a month and spending about half of that on rent.

It seems most of the Tanzanian economy is supported through tourist $$$, yet time and time again I've seen that the more tourists hit an area the more prices are inflated. In Arusha the prices on just about everything are double that of Mwanza, a much larger town with (seemingly) more opportunities for employment but very few tourists. Although I recognise the need for tourism, I can't understand how people who live here manage to survive. The dinner I had that night cost roughly half of my companion's monthly disposable income.

Last Thursday I had a relatively easy bus ride from Arusha to Nairobi and spent the rest of the day becoming increasingly more paranoid as it seemed every shop I went into had an additional locked door and armed guard than the last one. After dark I stayed in the hotel, but feeling rather hungry and not wanting to venture out alone I gave a couple of Congolese men I'd met earlier a call and we went out for dinner. They'd told me some rather impressive stories about their families, which I thought had been rather exaggerated, but when they picked me up in a Jag I had to reconsider.

Nairobi was really cold and a tad frightening. Definitely much nicer than it's made out to be ('the most dangerous city in Africa') but at the same time, it's a bit spooky to be frisked before being able to enter the building where you are changing your flight ticket and walk through two (or more) bolted doors with armed guards to enter shops. I'm not really sure all the security is necessary, but perhaps all the money being spent on security would be better off spent on trying to alleviate poverty so you don't need all that security. The enduring impression I have of the city is that there is quite a lot of wealth (in many respects it seemed a lot like any Western city) and overwhelming poverty just outside. Nairobi has some of the largest slums in the world, instead of trying to help the slum-dwellers, it seems the government's policy is to push the slums back from the city centre and ignore them.

My last night in East Africa was spent with very little sleep. After returning from dinner I overheard the man next door refusing to pay the woman he'd just slept with. She was asking for 500KSh (about $7) for putting her life at risk. The hotel cost about $50 a night, so there's no way he couldn't afford it. My stomach churned as I heard her pleading for her kids and he shoved her out into the hallway. I spent the night thinking about the huge inequalities here: between rich and poor, between tourists and residents, between those that have and those that don't. It's no wonder HIV continues to spread amongst the vulnerable.

Paradise found

I've only got a few days left in Tanzania before I fly home and couldn't think of anything better than escaping the cold and dreariness of Arusha and spending my last weekend in Zanzibar.



I spent a few hours on the beach enjoying the sun and tranquility. The boys collected seaweed, the men built dhows and, amazingly, I was the only tourist in sight!

I stayed in a gorgeous hotel in Shangani, the area of Stonetown that's made up of a million tiny side streets lined with street stalls selling Tingatinga paintings, Indian sari's, Arabic antiques, African wood carvings, Masai beaded jewelry. Just about anything you can imagine (and many things you can't) are for sale, and if you bargain hard enough, at very cheap prices. I went to Stonetown with every intention of leaving with nothing more than I came with but ended up with a painting, a handful of necklaces, a new pair of shoes and a couple of masai masks. So much for resisting temptation.



I spent my evenings wandering around Forodhani gardens, one of the most amazing places I've ever been. There are dozens of artists selling their wares on the blanket covered pavements, beadwork and carving proudly displayed.



and dozens more chefs with tables piled high with delicious food. I managed to eat and drink for less than $1!

ICTR Arusha

Though I've had a lot of fun fitting in as much as possible along the way, the real reason I came back to East Africa is to do some research. I'm looking into the effects of HIV on justice for the Rwandan genocide. While in Rwanda I spoke to people in the International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda (ICTR) office in Kigali and my last two weeks in Africa I'm working at ICTR Arusha.

The Arusha tribunal is where the trials for the high level instigators of the genocide are taking place. "Lower" level criminals are being tried in Rwandan Gacaca courts in a more traditional way. Being here is pretty awful. On Wednesday and Thursday I watched the former prime minister Kambanda testify. He's already been convicted and sentenced to life imprisonment but was a witness in another trial. Watching the clips of him inciting slaughter and then seeing him be as obstructive as possible (when he has nothing left to lose) was sickening.

I had lunch at a place just down the road from the UN buildings and spotted two of the defense attorneys eating. I know there are people tried for crimes they didn't commit and need (and deserve) a good defense, but the question that kept going through my head was, how do you defend someone that commits (and incites others to commit) genocide? I know someone has to do it, but how the hell do you live with yourself after getting someone off the hook for such crimes?

As for the research, it's coming along. I've had some good interviews with key people, and the answer is essentially: HIV is hugely affecting the outcome of the trials. According to the chief prosecutor, usually 1/2 the witnesses have died or are too sick to testify by the time cases go to trial. The genocide will continue until all the people (mostly women) that were infected with HIV as a result of the genocide have died. And all their partners who were subsequently infected have died. And all their children who were born HIV positive have died.

Safari pics

Abby and I just got back from a three day safari on the Masai Mara. I think the pics below probably speak more eloquently than I could...















Today we went to a giraffe sanctuary just outside Nairobi and I was able to feed (and pet) my favourite animals!

1994

I'm writing this a few days late because I needed time to think... I still need time to think. As much as I have read, heard, seen and felt about the Rwandan genocide, it is something I don't think I will ever be able to come to terms with. I can't imagine how those that lived through it can.

The week I spent in Rwanda I couldn't stop thinking about what had happened. The scale of the killings was such that everyone in the tiny country would have been impacted in some way by the genocide: either knowing or being perpetrators, victims, or both. Driving through Rwanda there are signs every few minutes to mark massacres, constant reminders that the beautiful landscape was recently scarred by human slaughter.



On the last day I was in Rwanda, Abby and I went to the Kigali Genocide Memorial. There were displays showing events leading up to the genocide, the genocide itself, and how the country is trying to rebuild. Almost a million people killed by machete in a couple of months is something that is really difficult to comprehend. The numbers are so large and the violence so extreme that the people victimised become unreal to us and the perpetrators inhuman. The memorial did an amazingly good job of showing that the victims were people. Video clips around the memorial of survivors describing friends and family that were killed made the numbers seem real.

For me, the hardest section of the memorial were the quiet rooms on the top floor. Poster sized pictures of children were hung from the ceiling with a plaque describing the child below it. Name. Age. Favourite foods. Disposition. How they were killed.

There's nothing we can do now about the Rwandan genocide. There is something you can do about Darfur.

Kinigi, Rwanda

We were in Kinigi from Friday to Monday at the base of the volcanos, it's at a really high altitude and I felt breathless and tired most of the time I was there. Kinigi is a tiny village and tourist destination for all who trek the gorillas, monkeys and other wildlife on the volcanos. Most stay in Ruhengeri, a much larger town about 16 kilometres down a really bumpy road, and travel to Kinigi only for the time they are trekking. There are two lodges in Kinigi, a fairly pricey international lodge and the Kinigi Guesthouse, run by an NGO that supports women and children survivors of the genocide.



We stayed in the NGO-run lodge for two nights. The guesthouse was really friendly and comfortable, easily the nicest place we have stayed at during our travels. Both nights I was in Kinigi I went out for a walk around the village, something that seemed to be almost a celebrity event for the children! No sooner had I left the gates of the lodge than I was surrounded by a young football team who asked me loads of questions about where I was from, what I was doing, and on the second night why I was staying! There were men in uniform with guns all over the village, the children explained that we were really close to the Congolese border where lots of 'bad guys' were (the exiled Hutu militants) and the RDF soldiers would protect our security. It was an eerie reminder of how recently the genocide occurred, and how few of the perpetrators have been brought to justice.



I ended up spending both evenings watching the children play and taking loads of pictures of them. They were very enthusiastic players and insisted I email them all the pictures I'd taken. As much as I enjoyed seeing the gorillas face to face, the best part of the trip to Kinigi was talking to the children.

Gorillas in the mist

This morning we set off early to the gorilla trekking base camp in Kinigi. After splitting into small groups we piled into a 4-wheel drive and bounced around the horrendous roads as far as could, then got out and walked up the volcano. After only about half an hour, I suddenly felt really faint and ill. My legs turned to jelly, I saw stars, I thought my stomach was going to explode. I thought I was going to have to turn back: I was only at the base of the volcano and already felt ill, we had at least an hour trekking in front of us at a much steeper grade than we had climbed so far. The guide told me to sit down, and after resting a few minutes and splashing cold water on my face and neck I felt much better. I got up again and started walking at the front of the group, much more slowly, with rests every few minutes.




The views from the volcano were incredible - we were surrounded by volcanic peaks and lush, thick vegetation. We climbed carefully, in addition to the altitude the prickly stinging nettles went straight through our clothes. What seemed like a very short time later, we turned a corner and came face to face with an enormous mountain gorilla! We spent an hour with the gorillas scrambling down the volcano through the nettles in a game of cat and mouse with the giant animals. The group we encountered had four babies - a couple of them played games running in circles around us and peeking out from the trees long enough for us to catch up with them before charging downhill again.


one of the babies, peering through the brush at me

Just as we were about to leave, the silverback (or chief) of the family stampeded down the volcano and stopped directly in front of us.