"i am not in a position to answer that question." caution:graphic

I am writing this disclaimer before I actually begin writing the things I have seen. I do not know how graphic this post is going to become, but I can tell you with certainty; what I have seen in the last two days is much more graphic than I could ever describe with words. I came to Rwanda with a sense of curiosity, but I at this point, I will be completely fine if I never see these things again. I apologize that this story doesn’t give the same warm fuzzy feelings as my story about Leya, I tried to leave that story at the top for as long as possible, but what I am about to say is a reality, and I want to give it to you in the same amount of accuracy and detail.

Yesterday was a good day. We started out with an AWESOME breakfast at the girl’s house. After that, we walked over to the ATN center. Rwanda currently won’t let anyone register churches so the missionaries had to register under a Non-Government Organization. ATN stands for Africa Transformation Network. We went to the ATN office and checked out how they are helping out the community by teaching computer, and sewing skills and English classes. The also have a ministry called Extra Miles that I will explain a little later. We had our very first language lesson in Kinyarwanda, which is the language spoken here. It is our THIRD language to learn and it is really a pretty difficult language. I have been really impressed by the missionaries here and how well they already know it even though they have only been here 6 months. It is awesome, and knowing the language helps people to come out of their shells much easier here. Acquiring the language is a huge part of mission work. Our lesson was pretty difficult and it was only greetings, so I feel like that isn’t a good sign for my future in Kinyarwanda.

After language lessons, we went outside to hear a man named Charles tell his story about his experiences in the genocide. Charles lost 4 siblings in the genocide and was constantly hiding and running away to different locations. At one point he was surviving in the woods by eating tree bark. It is just crazy to hear what people have seen. You are never prepared to handle the details you learn about a person here. It ALWAYS catches you off guard. He said that he is the 5th born child and in one month, he became the eldest. Now, Charles has started a ministry called Extra Miles, which creates a family community for genocide orphans and helps them pay for school. It is an awesome thing and it has been very influential here in Rwanda, but hearing what Charles had to say was obviously very difficult.

We had some people who got suddenly sick during the story so that was frustrating for them. Dealing with the stomach stuff has just been a part of life here in Africa, but it is hard because it causes us to miss out on things we really want to do. However, I have seen God do some AWESOME stuff as far as healing goes. I know it sounds a little bit weird, but being here with Marty and Murphy and their families has given me a whole new view on prayer. It is so powerful and I have been witnessing it though you all, my incredible support and prayer system at home. Anyway, after hearing from Charles, we went and had lunch at a restaurant called Africa Bites. It is the restaurant they saw Charlie and Kate from LOST in about 2 weeks ago. It was good food. Matoke, G-nut sauce, rice, and beef stew! Just like usual

Jarron and Jake were both really really sick. So they parted ways with us after lunch and went home for some rest. The rest of us went to the Garden City equivalent here in Kigali. White people everywhere, and a pretty Americanized place. We walked through a Wal-Mart like store called Nakumatt and Hannah and I found the chocolate aisle. We were pretty pumped and so we bought a Cadbury chocolate bar and almost cried as we ate them. We went to this REALLY American coffee shop that is exactly like Starbucks, and we laughed a little bit because we heard “It’s 5 O’Clock Somewhere” over the loud speaker. It was probably our most American moment here. We were planning on meeting a woman named Najja at 2:30 but she got there a little bit late, so we had a while to relax there. When Najja got there, she told us her story. It is SUCH a crazy one. Najja got separated from her family in the genocide and her uncle took her to America, because they had all died. In America, Najja’s uncle neglected her and so she was put into the American foster care system. A senator took her under his wing and made sure she had a good education. He encouraged her to come back to Rwanda last year and work with other orphans like herself so she did. When she arrived back, she found that her mother had survived. She now works here helping with adoptions and orphanages. She was a really cool person. She took us to one of the orphanages she works with called Mother Theresa Orphanage. It was a very sad place to be. There were kids EVERYWHERE. Najja said there are 500 kids there, and the facilities are definitely not big enough for that. There was a room with the little babies and there was one crib that had nine babies in it, and in the crib next to it, there were 11. They were lying side by side, and it just broke my heart. There is absolutely no way that those kids are getting the love and affection they need. I held onto one little girl named Andele all day. She was mentally handicapped and she had the most precious smile and laugh in the world. It was crazy to me that she just ran around with all the other kids. All the little girls in dresses didn’t have anything on underneath. It just made me sad. I saw four toys the whole time I was there. The first two toys were receipts. Literally, pieces of paper with purchases typed on them. The third toy was a plastic medicine spoon, and the fourth, and greatest toy was a McDonald’s Happy Meal toy. It was a tiny action figure of the alien villain from Lilo and Stitch. It was just a really sad situation. I held onto little Andele and we played. I loved holding her close. At one point she was laying on her back on my legs with her head and my ankles. She was just singing to herself and suddenly her head slipped a little bit between my ankles and she just went “Ahhhh!” It was so cute. Just this little moment of fear, but it made me laugh for a good five minutes. I held her and hugged on her all day long and when it was time to leave, I sat her down on the step. She started bawling and reaching up to me. I could see her little tears. She kept calling, “Mama! Mama!” and my heart was just completely breaking. Leaving her there on those steps was so difficult.

After we got home from the orphanage, we did a house swap with the boys. We ate dinner at the Koonce’s house and the boys came to our house and ate with the Crowsons. It was nice to get to be with the other family. The boys are such a mess and I just love them. We came back home and I got to talk to my mom, sister, brother, Justin, and Tyler on Skype. It was awesome! I was so glad to hear their voices. I haven’t heard Ty’s in like, a month and a half, so that was really good, even though he couldn’t understand everything I was saying. I was so encouraged and uplifted by getting to talk to them. I needed it after the emotional wear and tear of being here.

We woke up this morning and had a good breakfast at the Crowson house. We went down to the ATN and waited to meet up with the boys. I am currently reading a book called We Wish To Inform You, Tomorrow We Will Be Killed With Our Families. It is all about the Rwandan genocide, and if you are looking to learn more about it, the book is very well written and informative. It has been surreal to read it here, seeing what I am seeing, but I also understand more about what happened too. More people should know about the things that happened here. On the way out to our first memorial site, Murphy showed me the site where GACS is looking to build their new school. I made sure to get a picture. It was really exciting to see it and it made me really excited about the opportunities for good that can be done here by people I love.

This may be the part of the story where some of you may want to stop reading. Though I view it as very important, the things I have seen are really rough. The violence and brutality I have heard about is scarring. I am about to talk about things I have seen and things I have felt. I will not hold anything back. So here we go.

Our first genocide memorial was at a church called Nyamata. This is an extremely common situation because many people fled to the churches seeking refuge. This had worked in the previous outbreaks of violence between the two groups. (To say Hutu and Tutsi here isn’t very well appreciated) Thousands and thousands of people went to hide in the churches, and in many instances, the pastors of the churches locked them in and turned them over to be killed. Charles told us that this has caused so much distrust in churches and pastors. It makes mission work very difficult. We walked into the church gate and the first thing I noticed was the lush grass surrounding it. In my mind, I imagined the bodies scattered around the lawn that I have seen in footage from the genocide. I imagine that the flesh from decomposing bodies helped to fertilize it. These were my first thoughts when I walked in. It is amazing that thoughts can change to being so dark so instantaneously. We approached the building and Charles explained to us that the door had been broken to get in. There were holes in the floor and on the wall and in the windows from the grenades they used. We walked inside and what I saw next is an image that will be burned into my mind and heart forever. I will never forget. The church is a big room with many pews. Covering the floors and pews and all over the front and back of the church were the clothes of the several thousand people murdered there. Piles and piles of dirty ragged clothes were up to my knees everywhere. I saw children’s clothes and little shoes. There were just piles of clothes as far as I could see. When I though I couldn’t bear to look at the clothes anymore, I looked up. Instead of comfort, I received more shocking pain as I saw the tiny holes in the roof from where the grenades had gone off. 15 years later, I could still smell death. I simply could not believe my eyes. Charles walked us to the back of the room. There were more clothes piled high, but he drew our attention to a bloodstain on the back wall. He told us that this wall was used for smashing babies against. The blood is theirs. I will never understand the amount of hatred and the utter dehumanization it would take to smash a baby against a wall. My first reaction to this information was revulsion. I felt like I was going to throw up. My stomach was twisting and turning and total horror just filled my heart. I pictured babies I have fallen in love with here and I just hurt. All over my body and deep inside my heart just ached. I don’t have enough words. I took pictures of what I saw. I thought I might want them so that I can show you the magnitude of the loss, but I don’t know if I will ever want to see them again. After we left the church building, we went out to the mass graves. You can walk down in them, and see shelves with coffins full of bones. There are shelves that go from floor to ceiling that are organized by what kind of bones they are. Skulls, Tibias, Fibulas, and Hip bones each having their own shelf. I walked in, expecting to see more coffins but what I saw literally terrified me and chilled me to my core. Skulls at eye level, as far back as I could see. I did the math and I came up with 196 deep shelves full of bones. There were thousands. Thousands of skulls, but that is not all they are. They are thousands of stories, and smiles, and families, and memories. These were people, not just nameless skulls. To try and take that in is overwhelming. I cannot present you with a clear enough picture of the magnitude and the overwhelming repulsion of being in a place like this. I have heard stories you cannot even imagine. Not in your worst nightmares. The things that happened here were atrocious. On the first day, 8,000 people were killed. By the time someone intervened, there were over 1 million innocent people who had been killed. The USA refused to call it a genocide, because if they did, they would have had to intervene and they didn’t want another incident like Somalia. They had signed a document saying that they would not tolerate genocide, so instead the solution was to deny what it was so we wouldn’t have to get involved. Rwanda had no personal gain for the Europeans and Americans so they just turned their head. The preservation of life simply wasn’t enough. I feel helpless and disappointed in thinking that if something like this happened again, I would be ineffective in intervention. The USA justified the lack of action by saying that what was happening definitely included “acts of genocide” but that an actual genocide was not occurring. There is a very disappointing interview with a spokesperson from the Clinton administration in which an interviewer asks , “How many acts of genocide does it take to be classified as a genocide?” Her reply? “I am not in a position to answer that question.” Wow. I don’t even know how to deal with that.

We went to another genocide memorial at another much smaller church. There were 5,000 people killed there. There were clothes draped over the rafters and piles of shoes and jewelry. There were more shelves with bones and I just couldn’t take anymore. I had reached my limit of horror for the day. I had seen enough tiny children’s skulls with cracks in them from machetes. It was too much. We went from there to a park on top of a hill and we sat in a circle and talked with Murphy, Marty, and Mark about what we had just experienced. We talked about our anger, and our horror, and our pain. We questioned God together, and we talked about where to go from there. I talked about a part of the book Safely Home I read on the first part of my internship. It shows God on His throne, listening to the cries of his children who are asking him “How long, Oh Lord?” We asked God that together today. I have started to come to the place where I am desiring Heaven so much that this prayer no longer scares me. Begging God to return to establish Heaven here on Earth is one of my deepest cries for Him at this point. “Is it time yet, Oh Lord? Your people still suffer, all over the world. Intervene for them God!” After our difficult but very much necessary discussion we all prayed. We thanked God for being a God who delights in being a Rescuer. We thanked him for being good all the time. I told him that on a day like today, it is difficult for me to say that, but nonetheless, I say so confidently, because I know it is true. I asked for peace and trust and healing for the people of Rwanda. I told him that I when there is much loss and pain and brokenness, I know that there is much room for His glory. Some of us prayed and just told God how angry we were. Our emotions and responses were all over the board.

We concluded our meeting and had some lunch. Driving through the city doesn’t feel the same. We talked about how we feel our stomach in knots basically all the time. There is no escape. The girls went into town with Mark, Murphy, and Marty and the boys played video games. I think all of us were just looking for a way to get lost in whatever we were doing so we could just stop thinking for a little bit. It is impossible. We came home and had dinner, and talked more about what we saw. After dinner, the Crowsons left us here for a few hours so Hannah, Mandy and I watched “Sometimes in April,” another movie about the genocide. We can’t get away from it. It is everywhere.

Be praying that God grants us peaceful and restful sleep tonight, as we are haunted by what we have witnessed today. It is an oppressive pain, and we all feel a loss about how we should handle our emotions. Tomorrow we are going on a survey trip out west. We will be there for a few days seeing what can be done and interviewing people about the genocide and how to minister to a people affected by it. Keep us in your prayer for safe travels and extra amounts of peace. We need it more than I could possibly say. I am so exhausted emotionally that has translated physically. I feel a little bit like a zombie today. Thank you for the constant encouragement and prayers. I have been blessed and uplifted by you and I am so appreciative. This is my last week in Africa! I am 8 days away from being in my family’s arms, and from being 20 years old. I am excited for both!

For His Glory,

heidi