After leaving Lake Bunyonyi in southwestern Uganda, my Dutch travel friend and I took a long bumpy road to Kisoro. Absolutely gorgeous scenery made up for the sore rear end. As did a no-fee visa for US citizens. Score! After a semi-quick trip in a bush taxi (one flat tire...there's always something) I found myself in Ruhengeri, a large town in northwestern Rwanda. Bumming around I stumbled into a tourism office and met up with a Finnish guy planning on hiking Mt. Bisoke, a 3700m volcano in the Virunga Mountain Range. The hike up the mountain passed through dense rain forest and was one of the most difficult hikes I've ever done- muddy, steep, thick brush, prickly vines. But once we got to the top...pure beauty. The volcano had a lake in the middle, and the low clouds made for pretty spectacular viewing. Unfortunately, the clouds meant we couldn't see the other direction into the valley below. And it was freaking freezing.
I took another long, bumpy bush taxi ride south to Kibuye, a town on the shores of Lake Kivu. It was absolutely gorgeous, but not much to do aside from look at the scenery, so I made my way to Kigali, Rwanda's capital the next day. Kigali was a very pleasant surprise. Spread out amongst a bunch of hills, it was initially confusing to navigate, but after a quick walk I had identified several landmarks. Not only was the weather warm (finally!) but it was just plain nice. There was no one bugging me to buy crap, no car horns wailing, no mini-buses just about trampling my toes...just nice.
Not all carefree, though. We spent one afternoon at the Kigali Memorial Center. I don't know what to say. I remember hearing news stories of the Rwandan genocide in 1994, but reading the displays, seeing the pictures, listening to the audio tour...absolutely nonsensical. Downstairs were exhibits reflecting on the periods before, during, and after the genocide. The most chilling part were the three rooms displaying remains found-bones, clothing, personal artifacts. Cases of skulls with bullet holes and smashed foreheads. Piles of femurs. Clothing displayed as though a ghost were wearing it. Upstairs were exhibits commemorating several different genocides of the 20th century- from Armenia to Bosnia. The toughest part of all, however, was the blown up images of a dozen or so kids who had been killed. There was a little blurb about each one, and it just struck me how normal they all were- favorite foods, toys, friends. At several points in the Memorial the point was made that after each genocide the world stepped in too late and belatedly said "Never again". We've had to say that far too many times.
Moving on from Kigali, I decided to cheat on my overland trip. The bus ride to Arusha, Tanzania was going to take a minimum of 30 hours, plus three border crossings, Nairobi traffic, and who knows what else. So I flew. Quick flights to Nairobi then to Kilimanjaro International Airport. I knew I had made the right decision the moment we saw the snowy peak of Kilimanjaro poking up above the clouds. Pictures and more soon...hopefully.
I took another long, bumpy bush taxi ride south to Kibuye, a town on the shores of Lake Kivu. It was absolutely gorgeous, but not much to do aside from look at the scenery, so I made my way to Kigali, Rwanda's capital the next day. Kigali was a very pleasant surprise. Spread out amongst a bunch of hills, it was initially confusing to navigate, but after a quick walk I had identified several landmarks. Not only was the weather warm (finally!) but it was just plain nice. There was no one bugging me to buy crap, no car horns wailing, no mini-buses just about trampling my toes...just nice.
Not all carefree, though. We spent one afternoon at the Kigali Memorial Center. I don't know what to say. I remember hearing news stories of the Rwandan genocide in 1994, but reading the displays, seeing the pictures, listening to the audio tour...absolutely nonsensical. Downstairs were exhibits reflecting on the periods before, during, and after the genocide. The most chilling part were the three rooms displaying remains found-bones, clothing, personal artifacts. Cases of skulls with bullet holes and smashed foreheads. Piles of femurs. Clothing displayed as though a ghost were wearing it. Upstairs were exhibits commemorating several different genocides of the 20th century- from Armenia to Bosnia. The toughest part of all, however, was the blown up images of a dozen or so kids who had been killed. There was a little blurb about each one, and it just struck me how normal they all were- favorite foods, toys, friends. At several points in the Memorial the point was made that after each genocide the world stepped in too late and belatedly said "Never again". We've had to say that far too many times.
Moving on from Kigali, I decided to cheat on my overland trip. The bus ride to Arusha, Tanzania was going to take a minimum of 30 hours, plus three border crossings, Nairobi traffic, and who knows what else. So I flew. Quick flights to Nairobi then to Kilimanjaro International Airport. I knew I had made the right decision the moment we saw the snowy peak of Kilimanjaro poking up above the clouds. Pictures and more soon...hopefully.
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