This morning I got reacquainted with an old Rwandan friend of mine, Crack of Dawn. We were up at 5 to catch the 6 am bus to Kigali. Regina had bought us tickets for the Ontracom bus: the bigger, roomier bus to Kigali that is also cheaper. I loaded up almost all my belongings into half of my luggage, and needless to say it was extremely heavy. Once we arrived in Kigali, we decided to walk to our hotel since we figured it was only about 5 blocks away from where the Ontracom stopped. It was 10 blocks away. Uphill.
At our new hotel, Isimbi, it wasn’t quite check out time so there weren’t any rooms available yet. So they stored our stuff and we had a couple of hours to kill until we could check in. Since we were so off so early in the morning, we had skipped breakfast and now we were very hungry. Taking advantage of the big city and our new convenient downtown location, we went straight to Bourbon. We had breakfast and drank coffee and hung out until noon when we could check in at Isimbi. From there Lama had a meeting, and Kara and I were hanging out at the hotel until our meeting at 3 pm. I had got in contact with Yvon Pomerleau, and luckily enough today was the only day he could have possibly met with us.
Yvon is a Dominican priest who lived in Rome for 7 years with my Dominican Priest Uncle Jerry. I first found out I was going to Rwanda while I was in Montreal, and Jerry gave me Yvon’s contact since he had lived in Rwanda for 25 years and was now living in Montreal. He was kind of enough to meet with me and have lunch, and answer all my questions about Rwanda in preparation for the trip. He had told me he was going to be coming to Rwanda while I would be there, so we had planned to see each other again on the other side of the world. Today was that day.
The Dominican house was all the way across town, so that meant nice long moto-rides. It was the usual, sunny and gorgeous day in Rwanda and the ride was just blissful. I’ve noticed in Rwanda when taking various methods of transport, such as motos or taxis, that their gas-tanks are almost always on E. It’s never been an issue, I just think it’s peculiar, but today was the first time we’ve ever run out of gas. It obviously must happen regularly because the driver asked me to step off for a moment, and then proceeded to tip his bike over to let every drop go into the fuel line. He stood it back up and sure enough it started. We only ran out of gas and repeated the process two more times before we made it to a gas station.
When we arrived Yvon was waiting on the couch in the lobby and shortly thereafter had provided cold beer to drink. We sat and talked for about an hour, he gave us a tour of the grounds, we talked a bit more and got to meet one of his good friends, and it was time to go. Our time together was brief, but that is not to say it wasn’t great. Yvon is such a warm and friendly man, and just by watching his interactions with everyone around him, and seeing how quick he is to laughter, made me feel really good. I have only met him twice, but I would consider him a friend, and sincerely hope I get to meet him again. I think Kara felt the same. He told us many great stories, and recounted his experiences during the genocide. He showed us parts of their chapel that was damaged by shelling and roof tiles and doors that had bullet holes in them. He told us how when they returned after the war their furniture and many precious paintings had been looted, and even more they knew where they were (in many of the surrounding houses). He said they’ve mentioned that it is their property and they would like it back, but that wasn’t enough and so they’ve let it go to avoid any conflict. Yvon seemed to recognize that while holding a great deal of sentimental value, in the end they were just things.
It was great to connect again with Yvon, and he was so busy that he had actually had to cancel an appointment to meet with us, and had another one immediately after. We got to meet his friend, with whom Yvon was obviously close, and so we left so that they could catch up and spend some quality time together. We called Lama as we left and planned to meet up at our hotel for dinner.
The restaurant in Isimbi is actually very nice and had a nice selection, and we even had a glass of red wine with dinner. Lama is staying at Freddy’s house this time in Kigali, and Freddy stopped by to have a drink with us after he got of work. The conversation was hilariously crass, including our adventures with our toilets and the politics of breasts in Rwanda. Freddy explained how if a women hasn’t had a child, you are not allowed to see ONE MILLIMETER of her breasts, it’s impossible, you can even beg and plead (his words). But! Once she’s had a baby it’s quite alright to breast feed and display them as freely as you want. He also explained how when a women who has had a lot of children is carrying a baby on her back, and the baby cries for food, the woman will non-chalantly remove her breast and THROW IT OVER HER SHOULDER to the baby. I’ve never seen that, but supposedly it’s not rare. I don’t even know what I think about that story, but I was laughing so hard as Freddy told it.
After dinner, Freddy and Lama took off and Kara and I hung out for a bit before retiring for bed. We had had a very early morning, and had another ahead of us as we had to get up for the first day of our UN Habitat / national urban forum conference, so by 9:30 I was in bed.
Here is the wonderful Yvon Pomerleau, happy as ever:
Yvon Pomerleau.
