Today
is National Heroes Day in Rwanda which, as far as I can tell is a day
to commemorate National Heroes. It sounds simple, but of course its not.
The subtext of the day is that although heroes come from all kinds of
situations the majority of today’s celebration is genocide related. In
typical Rwandan fashion there also seems to be a hierarchy of heroes,
and I’ve been told there are three levels. Since all of this
conversation was carried out in Kinyarwanda, the only thing I am certain
of is that you must be deceased to obtain the highest level of hero;
presumably dying in your act of heroism but don’t quote me on it. Of the
several definitions I’ve gotten about what we are supposed to be
celebrating today the ones that come up most frequently are:
1. The actions of those heroes who refused to participate or tried to stop the genocide and the soldiers of the liberation army
2. All
people who have ever done something heroic, but also 1994 you know?
(this typical Rwandan “you know” always leads back to 1994).
The
one story though, that also keeps being repeated, that I was initial
under the impression was the whole reason for this holiday is about some
school children in Nyange. Several years after the genocide ended but
violence was still rampant, especially in the Lake Kivu region where
this school was located, genocidaires arrived at a secondary school and
asked a group of S5 and S6 students (11th and 12th
grade) to separate into ethnic groups. This was not uncommon in that
part of the country at the time and every one knew what would happen
next if they complied. So, they didn’t. Sadly, that simply means they
all died together, but it was an incredible act of solidarity that
marked a turning point in the country and from what I understand led to
several “copy cat” incidents around the region. This is the main
sacrifice remembered today, and it’s a worthy one, but I can’t help but
think of the rendition of it I read in a book on the country. In Philip
Gourevitch’s book he thinks about it this way:
“
Rwandans have no need – no room in their corpse-crowded imaginations –
for more martyrs. None of us does. But mightn’t we all take some courage
from the example of those brave Hutu girls who could’ve chosen to live,
but chose instead to call themselves Rwandans?”
Today
is a day, in my mind, about Rwanda trying to cling to the notion that
not everyone is guilty. And truthfully, they are not, they cannot be,
but the mood is not the celebratory somber one of Veteran’s day (the
American holiday they keep comparing this to) because everyone was in
this war, and only some are heroes. But there are fanta and speeches and
I’ve been told there would be dancing but so far have seen none of it.
Maybe the holiday is different outside of a campus of pre-teens but
since my life is a campus of prê-teens this is how I experience it.
As
far as the celebrating goes, I had been told in advance that the
holiday was marked
1. By farming
2. By dancing
3. By speeches. Since I
had no idea which on it was I was unsure how to dress and decided
finally on jeans and a nice top. When I went to the staff room I was
told the teachers were not coming in today they had a party at the
government office – which clearly I was not invited to – unsecured loans no surprise and
the only staff on campus were the disciplinarians to make sure the
students went to their ceremony later. When I tried to go to the student
ceremony I was told I should not because I am not Rwandan and not a
student. Aka I was not invited to either. Finally, I got all “I came to
this country to be included” defiant and walked over to the student
ceremony anyways , naturally it was a lot boring speeches and I set the
alarm on my phone so it would go off and I could pretend it was a
phonecall and left. Now I’m sitting in my house writing this wondering
exactly what is happening. It sounds like the students have returned
from their ceremony so I might go play with them in a bit. Wouldn’t
everything be so much easier if the other teachers simply told me what
they expected from me?? I operate in this other realm where no one
checks my lesson plans, or tells me things, and I don’t have to go to
ceremonies. bad credit loans I guess its good and bad. Happy Heroes day. Whatever that
means.
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